Destiny or Deadly
by Psychoblue
Summary: The King of Iron Fist Tournament 2 was the site where fates collided and destiny was changed forever. This tale follows four fighters in particular whose destinies were impacted the greatest.
1. Elite Among Elites

Author's Note:The Scenario Campaign intro of Tekken 6 shed some light on a lot of things, such as the fact that the bosses of T1 and T2 competed as normal competitors, as well as Kazuya's thoughts on Jun. That is why I am taking it upon myself to attempt a Tekken 2 fiction based on these new factoids.

Now, someone from my oneshot Kurenai asked me, "Who gave me the authority to do what I do?" The answer is simple: I do it because I can.

I hope you enjoy!

-------

"Finally…"

Once the plane had come to a complete stop, the blonde-haired American stretched out his thickly-muscled arms and stood up from his seat. It was a very long plane ride from California to Japan, but the man was thankful that it was over and he was back on stable ground. If humans were meant to fly, in his opinion, then God would have given them wings. The innovation of planes and spacecraft did not interest him, because he would normally have no intention of leaving the ground: his inability to perform a full backflip despite his training was ample proof of God's intention of keeping the young man grounded.

However, Paul Phoenix realized that his dislike of flying was just another test set before him. After several hours of air sickness and vomiting in a plastic bag, the fiery martial artist was ready to prove his worth on the grandest stage of all. "Hey Marshall," Paul called out to his napping Chinese-American sparring partner that had been sitting next to him throughout the trip, poking him harshly to rouse him. "Wake up, man: we're here."

"Uuuuh," Marshall groaned as he brushed back his short black hair and opened his eyes. Turning to his right to see Paul standing in the aisle getting his bags, the young man cracked his neck and slowly stood out of his seat. "What…time is it? I'm still operating on Western time: does the clock go forwards or backwards now that we're in Japan?"

"I honestly have no idea," Paul admitted with a shrug before pulling down a duffel bag and handing it to Marshall. "Still, I bet we can figure it out once we get into the airport. There's no point staying here cooped up on this plane, right?" Picking up the bags that he left on the floor, Paul motioned his head over to the plane's exit and began walking along with the rest of the tourists and patrons. "Let's go, Marshall: if we hurry on to the hotel, we can go to the weight room and get some exercise in."

"Making up for time lost during the flight: you're still as dedicated as ever," Marshall said with a smile as he followed his sparring partner and friend. "I personally wouldn't mind finding a bite to eat first: all of the plane food gives me indigest-"

"We can do that after we build up an appetite," Paul interrupted harshly. "If we want to win this tournament and avenge our losses from the last time we were here, we need to toughen ourselves up! That means that our training comes first, and our biological needs come second!"

Paul Phoenix and Marshall Law were no strangers to toughening themselves through depravity. Both of them often found themselves heavily indebted to others. Marshall had dreams of running a restaurant in addition to running his dojo, and managing two businesses at once was a very expensive endeavor: one that quite often found him taking out loans after loans from the banks that he couldn't hope to pay back in time. Paul, on the other hand, knew no other trade aside from fighting: he considered opening a dojo of his own, but he did not feel like he was ready to share his secrets with other aspiring martial artists just yet. Until he proved himself to be number one in the world, he could not expect to tell others how to fight.

_No…not just the world, _Paul reminded himself as he and his friend stepped out of the jetway and into the airport terminal, taking a breath of air that didn't consist of the disinfectant-tainted smell that he had been breathing for hours. _I'm going to become the number one fighter in the universe! Once I win this thing, there won't be anyone who can dispute that claim!_

In the first King of Iron Fist tournament, Paul Phoenix sought to confront Kazuya Mishima, a mysterious fighter of Japanese origin who fought Paul to a draw. Before then, Paul was an world-class fighter who had been undefeated throughout his entire fighting career, dating back to when he first declared street fighting to be his official profession. Although he didn't outright lose, Paul was incensed that some Johnny-come-lately could take him to the limit, and declared Kazuya his arch-rival. Unfortunately for Paul, the feeling wasn't mutual on Kazuya's behalf: Kazuya saw Paul as a nuisance, and nothing more.

Paul entered the tournament hoping to become the undisputed number one fighter in the world by defeating Kazuya and his father Heihachi to win the tournament, but he instead found a rival that stirred his blood even more than either of them. This rival, in fact, was not even a human, but a giant bear! As a young lad, Paul Phoenix idolized a martial artist named Willy Williams, who was nicknamed "the Bear Killer" due to his ability to take on any opponent, even wild bears. If Paul could defeat this bear that had advanced so far into the tournament, then he could place himself on the same pedestal as his idol…and maybe even rise above him!

This bear, however, was not exactly like the bears that the previous "Bear Killer" had traded fisticuffs with. In addition to being extra-ferocious and having a taste for human flesh, the bear dubbed "Kuma" by his owner Heihachi Mishima even had its own martial arts style! Paul knew that victory would not be easy against a bear, but a bear that knew how to fight was an opponent that he couldn't hope to prepare against. After a very close battle, Paul managed to escape with his life, and the victory. Unfortunately, his own wounds were too great and he was unable to complete his run through the tournament.

Nevertheless, Paul did not lose hope: fighting Kuma only strengthened Paul's fighting spirit and made him even more eager to compete again. Whenever he wasn't eating, sleeping, or riding his motorcycle, Paul trained with a zealot-like vigor so that he could be prepared for the next time such a tournament came around. Having a fellow King of Iron Fist alumnus in his best friend Marshall was a great benefit, but even that did not make Paul feel like he was number one. He had to earn that right, and he found himself longing for the day when the next King of Iron Fist Tournament would come around.

Two years later, Paul got his wish when he and Marshall received their invitations to the next King of Iron Fist tournament. "It's all or nothing this time," Paul told his friend Marshall as they quickly made plans to head to Japan so that they could compete. "This time, we're going to prove that we're the toughest SOBs around! It doesn't matter who they are, and it doesn't matter what they are: everyone in that tournament is going to be staring up at the ceiling as we waltz on up to the top!"

"Hey…hey, Paul!"

Snapping out of his trip through memory lane, Paul turned his head in the direction of that voice that was calling his name. Seeing Marshall standing several feet away from him, the young man hurried over to where his sparring partner was standing at resumed walking side by side with him. "You spaced out for a moment and began wandering off," Marshall stated as they turned left to head for the cab terminal so that they could get a ride to their hotel. "Is something on your mind?"

"Just thinking about the fights ahead of us, buddy," Paul said with a boyish smile as they continued walking towards their destination while he straightened his brush-like hair. "I can't wait to try my newly-sharpened fists against the best of the best…and I especially hope I can test it out against that stinkin' bear Kuma!"

----------

"Grrrrmph?"

Turning his feral head towards the sky, Kuma grunted curiously. Although no one had called his name to his knowledge, his animal instincts kicked in as he heard something or someone call out to him. After staring into the sky for a good twenty seconds, the famed "fighting bear" lowered his head and walked away from the edge of the boat to roam around the rest of the deck. There wasn't must else to do on the boat except think about the tournament that lie ahead of him…and enjoy the comfort of his beloved master.

"What seems to be the problem, Kuma?"

Hearing his master's voice call out to him, Kuma turned his head to the middle-aged man wearing a red fur coat and purple dress pants. Despite how his suit was covering up his frame, it was obvious to everyone on deck that the man was no one to be trifled, as noted from his body-builder physique. He was, like most other people on the boat, of Japanese descent, with a black horseshoe mustache and a bald head save for two pointy stalks of hair growing out of the side of his head and spreading out like eagle's winds. Once Kuma had come over to his side, the man leaned down at gave his pet a pat on his head with his black-gloved hand. "Don't worry, friend: we should be there soon…"

With the sound of footsteps approaching him, the middle-aged man turned around to see a well-dressed waiter that had been going around the boat deliver his cup of tea. "Thank you very much for waiting, Heihachi-sama," the waiter said with a sincere smile. "We should be arriving onto the mainland within the next ten minutes. I hope both you and your pet are satisfied with the service…though we ask that you follow your pet whenever he goes about roaming the boat: he has been frightening some of the patrons."

"Understandable, but as long as you feed him what I ask you to feed him, I do not think he will attack anyone," Heihachi Mishima said with a smile before looking down at his pet, who was leaning against his hand. "He's a warrior: he knows better than to pick fights with those smaller than itself without a just cause." Once the waiter began walking away, Heihachi placed his cup of tea onto the table he was sitting at and looked out towards the mainland that was gradually becoming closer and closer. "Of course, once this tournament starts, Kuma, I expect you to tear apart anyone smells like an enemy. We cannot make any mistakes this time...either of us."

Though he was now sailing with the commoners, Heihachi Mishima had once been an aristocrat of the highest order. As the head of the mighty Mishima Zaibatsu, the world's leader in military weapon production, Heihachi's name was feared and respected in all corners of the globe. This was not only because of his political sway, but because of his physical prowess, as well: his nickname of "the King of the Iron Fists" was not just for show.

Heihachi set out to prove his nickname was more like a title by pooling all of his resources to set up the inaugural King of Iron Fist Tournament. Warriors from all across the globe, including Heihachi Mishima himself, pitted their might against one another for the honor of claiming Heihachi's title of "King of the Iron Fists" as well as a very hefty amount of prize money that would allow the winner to enter an early, well-deserved retirement. Of course, to obtain this prize they would have had to go through Heihachi himself, who was ready to prove to the world that he wasn't all money and politics.

For most of the tournament, Heihachi decimated his competition. The opponents were often younger, and highly overconfident, but age meant nothing to a battle-hardened veteran like Heihachi. The name "Mishima" was synonymous with warrior in the fighting world, and Heihachi embodied that warrior spirit by smashing the overconfident adversaries like the insects that they were. By the time the tournament was winding to a close, it would appear that Heihachi would retain his title and his pride…

…but there was one fighter that stood in his way at the finals: his son Kazuya. After losing his wife over complications that arose during Kazuya's birth, Heihachi made it his life's goal to toughen Kazuya to the same degree that he toughened up after her death. To become the head of the Mishima Zaibatsu meant to be without weakness, especially the weakness known as compassion. Heihachi was excessively cruel to his son Kazuya, even going so far as to adopt a young boy named Lee Chaolan so as to infuriate Kazuya further and make him feel threatened by the newcomer. However, Heihachi did not do that solely out of hatred for his son Kazuya and how he was responsible for the death of his wife: he did this so that he could have an heir worthy of carrying the Mishima Zaibatsu into a new age, and devoid of any compassion. After all, if a leader was without compassion, then he would be without sadness…and to be without sadness would mean that if Kazuya were to marry someone, he would not feel any remorse or hesitation when he would have to choose between family or "the greater good" of leading the Zaibatsu.

Normally, Heihachi would have considered it an honor to be defeated by his son, and would proudly step down from his position as head of the Zaibatsu so he could head into retirement while the new generation lead the way. Unfortunately, reality proved to be uncooperative for Heihachi: during the final battle of the tournament, Kazuya revealed an evil, deadly power that overpowered the unsuspecting warrior. When Heihachi raised Kazuya with the extreme harshness that he did, he was under the impression that Kazuya persevered due to being a Mishima: a true warrior that shone through even at his very young age. However, when Kazuya defeated him, Heihachi knew the real reason Kazuya came that far: he had invited into himself an unholy power that could not possibly have been gained from training.

He had done something no warrior should ever do: he cheated his way to power.

After emerging victorious, Kazuya left Heihachi for dead and took his place as the head of the Mishima Zaibatsu. Through sheer force of will, Heihachi crawled away from his would-be grave and gave himself a new mission. Kazuya had taken everything away from him: his wealth, his pride, and his empire. That wasn't even the worst part of it: Kazuya had defeated him by cheating: the power of the Mishima was that their strength came from hard training. To invite foreign powers into their system was a transgression of the highest order, and deserved nothing less than the ultimate punishment.

_I lost because I had grown complacent with my title as 'the best,' _Heihachi thought to himself as the cruise ship came within mere meters of the docks. _For the past two years, I have reminded my mind and my body of what it's like to suffer like a warrior is meant to suffer. I had competed in the previous tournament expecting my victory to be a mere formality: something that was entitled to me. I will not make that mistake again: I will take back what is rightfully mine and weed out the dishonorable usurper to my throne!_

*KRSSSH*

Hearing a crystalline smashing sound, Heihachi looked down and realized that in his frustration, he had crushed the tea cup that he had been holding in his hand. Due to wearing his gloves, he could not really feel the piping-hot tea that was covering his hand, or the porcelain shards that used to be the teacup. "Damn," Heihachi grumbled as Kuma looked up to see what the problem was. "I still need to figure out a way to control my temper. If I want to win this tournament, I will need to do so with a clear mind."

As soon as he said that, the boat gradually came to a stop and became even with the docks. "We have arrived on the mainland," the captain of the ship announced via loudspeakers that were mounted across the deck. "Please leave the boat at this time: we hope to enjoy your services again."

"Come, Kuma," Heihachi called out to his bear, who instantly pushed himself off the ground and began walking towards the dock. "Our fate awaits us. Let us head to our hotel so that we can be rested and prepared for the upcoming days of chaos…"

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"Ugh, finally," the deeply-tanned taxi driver said with an exasperated grunt. "The traffic in this city is absolute chaos, especially now that there's a new King of Iron Fist Tournament coming up. People are coming in from everywhere to check this thing out: from what I see on the street, I don't think some of these people have even seen modern society." Turning around to take a look at his customer, the taxi driver gave her a warm smile. "Who knows what kind of savages are here for the tournament, miss: are you sure you want to be involved in this kind of thing? Someone as beautiful as you is going to be a target…"

Rather than give the taxi driver a verbal response, or even a smile, the young customer quietly gave the taxi driver his fee and stepped out of the car so that she could open the trunk and remove her bags. "Hey, let me help you with that," the taxi driver said after a pause, stepping out of the vehicle hoping he could still get on his customer's good side. "When I said that you would be a target, I wasn't saying that you couldn't defend yourself: with arms like those, you could probably break a fool's wrist when they try to cop a feel…"

"I only break wrists when I have to," the young woman responded, finishing taking her bags out of the taxi before the driver could assist her. Closing the trunk of the cab, Jun turned to the driver and politely bowed her head. "Thank you very much for taking me here: I hope that you have a profitable day."

"Yes…you too, ma'am," the taxi said after a pause, returning the bow and tipping his hat before heading back into the car. "Just be sure to be careful: there are some real cutthroats here, and they aren't just from the tournament. The Mishima Zaibatsu will do anything to make sure that the tournament goes according to their plan: it's not like anything else hasn't since Kazuya took over."

Watching the taxi drive off, the young woman picked up her bags and walked into the large, high-scale hotel that was in front of her. At first glance, the young Japanese woman wearing a white waistcoat and tight black pants that accentuated her impressive curves, along with a white hairband in her short black hair, seemed peaceful and serene: like a lovely cherry blossom that would fall from a tree during the autumn. However, upon closer expression, the muscle tone and definition in her exposed arms showed that she was not all that she appeared to be. _I didn't mean to be rude to that taxi driver, _she thought as she walked through the entrance of the hotel and entered its wide, luxurious lobby. _I suppose I am on edge: this is my biggest assignment to date, and success can either make or break my career._

"Welcome to our hotel, miss," the hotel manager greeted the woman with a sincere smile as she stepped to the counter and put her bags down. "May I please have your name?"

"Kazama," the woman replied, doing her best to smile despite her nerves, "Jun Kazama."

"Jun Kazama, huh?" an unfamiliar voice repeated, causing Jun to turn around to see a young woman with a deep tan and an even deeper muscle tone who looked to be around her age wearing a white tanktop and teal shorts along with brown hiking boots. Her brown hair went down in a long braided ponytail, and it shone with the same healthy luster that Jun's hair had. "I figure I might as well get acquainted with the newcomers in the tournament: my name is Michelle Chang," the woman said with a bright smile as she outstretched her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"…of course," Jun returned the smile and shook the woman's hand, remembering that it was the custom of foreigners to greet people in that manner. "I have read your profile: you advanced to the final sixteen in the previous King of Iron Fist tournament. For someone so young, that is an incredible feat: as a fellow martial artist, I am quite envious."

"You don't look any older than I do…and from the looks of those arms, you didn't come to this tournament unprepared," Michelle said with a smirk as she tilted her head to get a look at Jun's muscle definition. "Who knows: you might get pretty far in this tournament yourself. Of course, you won't be getting past me, but it's the thought that counts." Clearing her throat and picking up one of Jun's bags, Michelle walked over to a nearby couch with her newly-acquainted rival and sat down. "So, what brings you to the tournament? Fame, fortune…revenge?"

"…that is what you seek," Jun said quietly, her smile fading as she sat down next to Michelle. "In the previous tournament, you entered because you wanted revenge on the Mishima Zaibatsu for the death of your father. You were unable to exact your revenge on Heihachi Mishima, because Kazuya Mishima defeated him first. According to my current reports, you are now entering the tournament because the Mishima Zaibatsu, for whatever reason, kidnapped your mother and you wish to retrieve her."

"How…do you know all that?" Michelle said after a pause, surprised that this total stranger knew so much. "What organization do you work for that you would know so many things?"

"I am an animal protection officer for the WWWC: my official title is 'Inspector Jun Kazama,'" Jun explained as she reached into her pocket to pull out her badge. After showing it to Michelle, the young woman continued. "I have reason to believe the Mishima Zaibatsu is illegally trafficking animals and using them for experimentation: we have several eyewitness accounts of kangaroos being seen around one of the Zaibatsu's research facilities. I am entering this tournament to discover the truth behind this trafficking."

"So you're here on business," Michelle summarized Jun's point before smiling again. "Well, you seem like a pretty sharp woman: I don't doubt that you'll get to the bottom of whatever is going on…and I don't doubt that I'll be able to get what I want, right as I pummel Kazuya's face in!"

"Attention, all King of Iron Fist competitors: please walk over to the man wearing the powder blue suit holding his briefcase to receive your tournament packet and instructions."

Hearing the loudspeaker of the lobby give out instructions, Jun and Michelle turned their heads to the right to see the aforementioned man with the thick black briefcase, which he was in the process of opening for some of the other people who were in the lobby. "I guess that's our cue," Michelle said as she sprung out of the couch while Jun calmly stood up without quite as much spring. "Come on: let's see what kind of party favors those scumbags at the Zaibatsu are handing out this year."

"_Tournament packets…hmph! Back in my day, showing up to a tournament was all a competitor needed!"_

Upon hearing an all-too-familiar voice in her head, Jun paused and addressed the voice accordingly. _I do not need to hear this, father: please, let me focus on the task at hand._

"_Sorry, Jun, but this is just one more trial that you must overcome as a warrior," _the voice responded nonchalantly as Jun picked up her bags and walked over to the man in the briefcase. _"You didn't come to this tournament just to look for animals, after all: you came here to find Kazuya Mishima and teach him the error of his wicked ways. That is the ultimate mission of those who possess Kazama blood, after all: to smite evil wherever it may roam! That is why our family came up with our own brand of Aiki-Jujutsu to get the job done…I'm just sorry that I wasn't able to live long enough to teach you the more powerful techniques personally: that would have made this tournament a lot easier."_

In addition to being an officer of the WWWC, Jun Kazama also had the rare ability of sensing spirits: immaterial beings that could not be seen with the naked eye, but existed nonetheless. Thanks to this ability, Jun was able to sense something was amiss the moment she first laid eyes on Kazuya Mishima on television. Kazuya radiated an aura of malice that was apparent to her even through the confines of the television, and the voice of her deceased father rang true to her ears and told her that he was possessed by an evil spirit, and it was her duty to smite it.

_My duty comes first, father, _Jun told her father before ignoring his voice completely to get back to what she was doing: a skill that she had taught herself for moments such as these. _I will first investigate the animal smuggling and see if there is any truth to the accusation WWWC has placed on the Zaibatsu. Then I will make plans to arrest Kazuya and free him from the mysterious forces surrounding him…and in order to do that, I will have to advance as far into this tournament as I can so that I can earn an audience with him._

Receiving her tournament packet from the man in the powder blue suit after showing her invitation, Jun Kazama opened the packet to see a packet of paper money, a passport, and a metallic pin about the size of a quarter. Taking the pin out of the packet, Jun inspected it carefully: a black pin with the red kanji of "Tekken" etched into it, and the number "8" on top of the kanji. "I wonder what this is," Jun said out loud before putting the pin onto her waistcoat.

"That is how Master Kazuya will keep track of the competitor's movements: it also doubles as a communicator," the man in the powder blue suit explained matter-of-factly. "Keep that with you at all times, as tournament announcements will be made via that pin. In fact, Kazuya Mishima is preparing to give his speech through that device within the hour."

"Why can't he do it face-to-face on a podium?" Jun asked curiously.

"Master Kazuya has many enemies who would try to assassinate him should he make a public appearance: the only ways to meet him during this tournament will be through a prior arrangement, or during the tournament where he will be participating as a normal competitor," the man continued. "Also, he does not wish to know any names and faces during the tournament, so that everyone is in the dark as to who they are facing. From this moment on, you are not 'Jun Kazama' but 'Participant Eight.'"

"…interesting," Jun commented before turning around and walking over to the elevator to go to her hotel room. "I wonder why he would do that…"

------

"_Why would you do that, Kazuya?" _the entity known only as "Devil" asked none-too-nicely as Kazuya looked from the window of his room on the top floor of the Zaibatsu tower, staring at the city below. _"Why would you refuse to actually look at the names and faces of the competitors that you have invited to this tournament? You have the power and influence to arrange for certain 'accidents' to happen to each of the competitors so that you can breeze your way to the top."_

"I do not want that kind of victory," Kazuya replied as he looked up to see his reflection of the glass. What he saw was a young Japanese man with black hair slicked back to a point, giving it an almost duck-tailed shape. With his purple tuxedo that he always wore during times of business, he had to admit he looked rather sharp. "Now that Heihachi is dead, I can use the Zaibatsu's power to cement myself as the ultimate world power. However, the people of this world will not bow down to someone who cannot take matters in his own hands. When I win this tournament, it shall be on the terms of the commoners: that way, no one can dispute my claim as the one true master of this forsaken Earth."

"_The world will bow to us all the same, Kazuya," _the voice taunted. _"With the power I have granted you, you have no equal in this world. Under our watchful eye, the world will fall into utter chaos just like you've always wanted, and they will understand just how much we have gone through. When that happens, the world will need a strong, ruthless leader to lead it into a new age…and that ruler will be us. There is no need to worry about feeble concepts like honor and fairness."_

"…and that is exactly why I am arranging this tournament the way I am," Kazuya responded as he saw a familiar figure next to him in his reflection: a demonic, humanoid winged creature with dark purple skin and red eyes. "When my father Heihachi threw me into the ravine all of those years ago, we made a pact together saying that we would get our revenge. Two years have passed since I exacted this revenge, and now I have been following my end of the bargain. You want a world in chaos and a vessel to project your will from, and here I am…but do not forget that you are not my master. Heihachi is gone, which means in this new tournament I will win fairly, without your help."

"_Why do you care about winning fairly?" _Devil asked once again, causing Kazuya's face to form a sneer of annoyance. _"You have nothing to prove: you are on top of the world. A victory is a victory, and it does not matter how you claim it. So why?"_

"Because…because," Kazuya's voice trailed off before his lips curled back into a snarl, "because I do not want to live in your shadow, Devil! I am Kazuya Mishima, the one true heir of the Mishima Zaibatsu: my name is now even more feared and respected than my father's, and I do not want to peasants to even think that I am afraid of doing things myself!"

"_There is a term for that, Kazuya," _a new voice added, causing Kazuya to glance over to his right to see another figure next to his reflexion: a blonde woman with a hearth in her hair and a shimmering white robe. _"That is called honor: it is something that all true warriors are confronted with when they know something is amiss. You know in your heart that your victory over Heihachi was tainted, and now you want to set things right by winning this tournament fairly. Do not ignore this uneasiness, Kazuya, because honor equates to strength, both physically and spiritually…"_

"…you have been popping up a lot lately," Kazuya pointed out dryly. "For most of my life, it's just been the Devil and I, but for the past several weeks you have been interfering in my conversations for some time. Do you have a name, stranger, or should I just call you 'Angel' for a lack of better term?"

"_You should ignore her, Kazuya," _the Devil added in. _"She is just your weakness given spiritual form. I have never led you astray before, and there's no reason for me to stop now when we're so close to achieving our dream."_

"'Our dream?'" Kazuya repeated before letting out a scoff. "Tch! My dream was to get my revenge on Heihachi and claim what was mine: the Zaibatsu throne. Your dream is to throw the world in disarray, and right now I am merely your puppet. How do I know that you will not leave me high and dry once the world is in ruins, and I won't be stuck with a No Man's Land to rule?"

Before either Devil or "Angel" could answer, Kazuya heard his adopted brother's voice over the intercom. "Nii-san, all of the invitations have been confirmed: everyone has received their packet. We are ready to begin."

"Patch me through to all of the pins, Lee," Kazuya commanded before stepping away from the window and turning around to a map of the country that he had set up in his room. "It is time to make my statement."

After hearing a metallic tone that confirmed that he was live, Kazuya gave his speech. "Welcome to my tournament, you martial artists who live only to fight. Some of you have entered this tournament for fame and fortune, others have entered for enforcing your sense of righteousness, and others still have entered for some perceived trangressions the Zaibatsu might have done against you."

Kazuya's voice became stern, almost angry. "I care absolutely nothing about that! In fact, as far as I am concerned, none of you are even worthy of having your name remembered! If you want to make a name for yourself, and earn the respect of myself and the world, then you will have to fight for it, just as I will fight for the respect of everyone on this planet alongside you! From this moment on until the tournament is over, you are a number and shall be referred to as a number when I summon you."

Lowering his voice, Kazuya paid close attention to how stern his voice was becoming, making it a forboding growl. "Starting tomorrow, each of you shall be called upon via the pins that you are wearing, given a time and a location to fight. If you are more than five minutes late to the location, then you will be disqualified: there will be no exceptions! Fights shall be decided by an offsite official that will remain incognito throughout the battle but will be watching regardless. I would prefer that you not kill your opponent during the fights, as that will bring about unwanted attention for the athletic commissions. If you do feel the need to settle things by blood, however, you may do it AFTER your fight is declared over."

Clearing his throat, Kazuya walked back over to the window and prepared to resume his conversation with the voices in his head. "I will not wish you good luck: only good battles. I shall see all of you on the stage of combat: the stage of the King of Iron Fist Tournament 2!"


	2. R1: Heihachi vs Jack2

"You desire this comestible?"

Looking at what his young companion was pointing at, the gargantuan individual reached out with his gloved hand and removed the box of "Moon Cakes" from its shelf and scanned its back for ingredients. He had expected food shopping to be a simple task, having familiarized himself with all of the nutrients and vitamins that a human girl would need to grow and survive. When he observed the ingredients of the aforementioned "Moon Cakes" however, he did not find very many things that would prove beneficial to her health.

"There are very few things in this box that would be beneficial to your health, Jane," the living giant said before putting the box back where it belonged. "We should also save our funds for the essentials. After I win the tournament, we will be able to purchase these unnecessary calories." At first, the little girl walking next to him pouted, as if she were about to cry. But after a sniff, Jane looked up at her guardian and gave him a slight smile. Other girls at her tender age might have thrown a fit, but Jane was able to keep her composure in front of the one who defended her: her beloved Jack.

While Jane might have openly accepted Jack, however, everyone else in the story gave him strange glances. He stood at a towering seven feet tall, with pale skin and a canary-yellow Mohawk to compliment his ominous red eyes, while wearing an olive wifebeater and matching green camoflague pants. Even more peculiar were his exceptionally long arms, which were as thick as the girl at his side. While he might have vaguely resembled a human being, Jack was anything but. In reality, he was created, rather than born, to be a killing machine for the Russian military, given the designation Jack-2.

As the successor to the original "Jack" model that participated in the first King of Iron Fist tournament, Jack-2 had been programmed to be cold and emotionless: a destroyer of lives serving the solitary purpose of obeying its master. As a top-of-the-line model, Jack-2 was but one of many "brothers" that were sent to the most wartorn of battlefields to claim victory in the name of Russia. Things such as casualties and rules of war meant little to the Jack-2 army, so long as they fulfilled their mission: the complete and utter annihilation of the enemy.

Normally, Jack-2 would have been fated to live this "life" for the rest of his unnatural days, and not even think twice about considering another line of work. However, during one particular mission, something within his programming altered his way of thinking. Upon seeing a little girl hiding amongst the ruins of the destruction that he and his brethren wrought, something emerged within Jack-2 that, under logical circumstance, should not have emerged: emotion.

Sadness, guilt, compassion, responsibility: this quartet of emotions completely overwrote Jack-2's previous programming as he dropped his weapon and rushed over to the little girl. Seeing the mutilated remains of adults lying at the girl's feet, Jack-2 immediately came to the conclusion that these were the girl's parents, and he and his brethren were responsible for their demise. Realizing that the rest of his brothers were noticing his change in behavior, Jack-2 scooped up the girl in his arms and retreated from the battlefield before they could act on his deviance.

The Russian military, furious that one of their prized robot soldiers had gone AWOL, sent out search parties to retrieve Jack-2. To Jack-2's good fortune, his tactical programming allowed him to escape any attempts to bring him back to base, while his new emotion programming helped him care for the little girl that he had taken into his care. Although unable to speak at first due to verbal skills being absent in his original programming, Jack-2 figured out a way to upgrade himself: careful study of human languages via television, radio, and person-to-robot communication. Once he had gained mastery of the language that the girl spoke, Jack-2 learned that the girl's name was "Jane," and began referring to her as such.

After accessing his memories banks of how he first met Jane, so that he could remind himself of his new mission, Jack-2 pulled up to the cash register with the little girl sitting on his wide left shoulder. "Your lemons are now two days removed from being freshly picked," Jack-2 pointed out to the cashier, who looked at him strangely while the grocery bagger began packing the food. "Please continue to remain vigilant so that your produce does not rot and become inedible for your customers."

"We…will keep that in mind, sir," the cashier said after a moment's pause, taken aback by Jack-2's bluntless. "Will you be paying with cash or credit?"

"I will be purchasing these nutrients in cash," Jack-2 responded coldly before researching into his pants pocket to pull out a handful of cash. A normal human would have taken several seconds to decipher the wad of money and coins that were in Jack-2's massive hand, but the robot was able to do it within 1.5 seconds, placing the exact amount of money required onto the counter. "This should cover the expenses that you are requesting for these nutrients."

"I see," the cashier replied, slightly creeped out by the giant's manner of speech. Looking up to his shoulder to see the little girl sitting quietly watching the bagger place the groceries in paper bags, the cashier changed the subject. "Your little girl is very cute, and she looks quite healthy. How old is she?"

"Jane is between ages five and nine years: I have not yet done the proper research and testing to determine her exact age, and she has yet to tell me her year of birth," Jack-2 answered with the same consistent bluntness he had been using since the conversation began. "I am hoping after this tournament is over, I will be able to find the time to locate a doctor who can notify me of her exact age. I believe that this information will prove very beneficial to me as her guardian."

"Did you adopt her? That's very nice of you," the cashier replied before pulling out a lollipop and handing it to Jane. "Here, consider this my treat. A little girl has to indulge herself every once in a while!"

Before Jane could open the lollipop, Jack-2 gently took it from her and stared at it closely. "…I detect very few essential nutrients in this item," Jack-2 pointed out as he prepared to hand it back to the cashier. "I do not believe that this is safe to eat for a little girl…"

"It's perfectly safe," the cashier said before she pulled out another lollipop, opened it, and placed it in her mouth to show that it was not harmful. "I know a guy as big as you is obsessive about being healthy and strong, but sometimes you need to loosen up a bit. It's a treat that should be had rarely, and judging from how much of a health freak you seem to be, I don't think this one instance is going to give her problems."

"…this is for you, Jane," Jack-2 turned his head to Jane and returned the lollipop to her. Turning his head back to the cashier, the robot slowly bowed his head in thanks. "Thank you for your gift. I shall keep this moment etched in my data banks for as long as I am active."

"I didn't think it was THAT nice, but thank you anyway," the cashier replied with a bow of her head before changing the subject while continuing to run the groceries through the scanner. "So, you said you were competing in the tournament? I've seen advertisements for it everywhere, but I can't seem to find any real information about it. My friends are big martial arts nerds and wouldn't mind knowing where the fights take place, but tickets for it do not seem to be on sale."

"The fight locations are considered confidential information," Jack-2 explained as the last of the groceries went through the register. Pointing at a small pin on his wifebeater with the number "5" on it, Jack-2 continued spouting out information. "Competitors are notified of fight times and locations through this device. I received information two hours ago that my fight shall commence at 1300 hours by this time zone, which means that I have 23 minutes and 57 seconds to arrive. The fight location is very close by: if you have comrades who wish to watch, tell them to gather to this vicinity and remain vigilant."

"I think I will," the cashier said with a smile as the bagger finished gathering the groceries. Handing Jack-2 his receipt, the cashier waved goodbye as Jack-2 picked up the single grocery bag and and handed Jane an apple. "Good luck with your fight: just make sure that you don't endanger that little girl!"

"I will not endanger her life," Jack-2 replied before lifting his free arm to return the goodbye as Jane smiled and did the same. "I will not endanger her life a second time."

---------

_22 minutes, 34 seconds later…_

Even though the locations of the fights of the tournament were not made public, Jack-2's word of mouth tactic brought some considerable attention to him. Several people followed him around after leaving the grocery store, hoping to become privy to the epic fight that would surely take place at the "secret location." At first, Jane was concerned that so many people were following her and Jack-2, and nearly broke down into tears out of anxiety. However, Jack-2 comforted her to the best of his fledging comforting abilities: he detected no malicious intent from any of his followers, and assured Jane that those people would not hurt her as long as he was still functioning.

The particular fight location was at an indescript sidewalk area, which had a rather good view of the local bridge that ran between the two parts of the city. Had Jack-2 not stopped at that location, the citizens would have passed it by without a second thought. Now that Jack-2 had placed his bag of groceries and Jane onto a nearby bench, however, people were gathering to the area in order to see what would unfold. "There is one minute remaining until it is time to begin," Jack-2 informed the masses, holding his hands up into the air and waving them down to try and calm them down, but to no avail. "Please, go to a safe distance and observe the battle from there: I do not wish for any unnecessary collateral damage."

As if on cue, a limousine began honking his horn so that the gathering patrons could clear a way for it. Not being stupid, the people made a path for the limousine so that it drove up right next to Jack-2. Once the limo had come to a complete stop, the passenger door opened and Jack-2's opponent stepped out. "So you are going to be my first obstacle to my path of retribution," the man said with a gruff voice and he watched his limousine drive away.

"Heihachi Mishima," Jack-2 identified his opponent not only from his physical attributes, but from his black karate gi, red karate belt and taped hands that he had worn in the previous tournament. "You are officially listed as 'deceased,' and yet you are here walking. Have you discovered a method to revive human cadavers that allows you to survive your own death?"

"Rather than come up with such a ridiculous explanation, perhaps you should use logic and realize that I am much too powerful to perish from a simple fall," Heihachi said as he crossed his arms. "Tell me: are you Participant Five? If so, you may assume your fighting stance and come at with everything you have to offer."

"I am Participant Five: you must be Participant Eleven," Jack-2 assessed the situation before walking away from Jane and towards Heihachi. "I am designated 'Jack-2:' for the next several minutes you will be experiencing major discomfort at my hand. Please realize that I do not do this out of malice: I am only hurting you because I must advance through the tournament." Placing his fists in front of him and gently bouncing up and down to keep his joints and hydraulics loose, Jack-2 watched as Heihachi unfold his arms and assume his own fighting stance. "Let us begin this fight, Heihachi Mishima."

As soon as the two fighters entered their fighting stances, their pins suddenly flashed, like a bulb of a camera going off. Once that happened, the two fighters slowly began circling each other carefully, as if the flash had set off a Pavlovian charge. "Hmph…I suppose this is what Kazuya was referring to as an 'offsite official,'" Heihachi said without breaking his gaze with the red-eyed robot. "Once that flash goes off, the battle officially begins. I considered doing something like that during the previous tournament, but I decided that warriors such as ourselves did not need such contraptions. The victor would be able to decide whether or not the fight was theirs."

Suddenly, Jack-2 ceased his sidestepping strategy and lunged at Heihachi headfirst, throwing his arms out in front of him in mid-air. Too fast for even him to dodge, Heihachi was knocked off his feet and Jack-2 swept his legs out from under him with a battering ram-like front slide. As Heihachi gripped his shin, Jack-2 carefully returned to his feet, the gears in his body whirring healthily. Once he had fully returned to his feet, Jack-2 lifted his arms and prepared to pound his opponent's fallen body like a butcher would bash meat with a mallet to tenderize it.

Heihachi narrowly rolled out of the way to avoid the attempted downwards punch: a good thing, too, because Jack-2 punched the ground with so much force that his fists actually became stuck in the pavement. "I see you prefer using brute force over finesse," Heihachi pointed out as stood back up and charged Jack-2 as he struggled to break free. "There is nothing wrong with that…except that you lack the discipline and patience needed to properly use that brute force!"

Taking to the air and throwing his left foot forward, Heihachi kicked his Soviet cyborg adversary in the head just as he finished removing his fist from the ground. The impact of the jump kick caused Jack-2 to stumble backwards even as Heihachi landed gracefully on his feet. Seeing another opportunity to strike, Heihachi once again charged Jack-2 and raised his hand before bringing it down on Jack-2's hard head with a hammer-like chop.

When Heihachi tried to send the robot reeling with a lunging straight punch known as his "Death Fist" due to the severe damage it caused to the chest area of the opponent, Jack-2 suddenly put up his gargantuan arms and blocked the attack. Even though Jack-2 weighed in at over 350 pounds, the force of the Death Fist sent him sliding backwards several feet, indicating how lucky he was to have blocked in time. "You are quicker than you appear, my friend," Heihachi said with a sneer as he resumed his fighting stance while Jack-2 resumed his. "Perhaps I spoke too soon when I said you lacked technique."

Going on the offensive, Jack-2 once again lunged for Heihachi's legs. This time, Heihachi jumped over the sliding robot and landed behind him. As Jack-2 once again got back up with the same mechanical whirring as before, Heihachi gave him a sharp roundhouse kick in the back knock Jack-2 right onto his face. Not willing to be in a disadvantageous position, Jack-2 rolled forward and narrowly avoided a Geta Stomp to his legs.

Heihachi chased after the rolling robot, hoping to attack him as soon as he stood back up. However, as soon as Jack-2 did so, he sent Heihachi sprawling backwards with a powerful Megatron Punch: a spear-like straight whose impact could be heard even to the spectators who were standing several feet away. Landing on the ground and rolling backwards from all of the momentum the punch had given him, Heihachi rolled back onto his feet and slid to a halt. "Do not underestimate me if you do not wish to get hurt," Jack-2 warned coldly as Heihachi wiped the spit from his mouth and resumed his own fighting stance.

Spitting on the ground before letting out a battle cry, Heihachi charged at Jack-2 at a full run while the robot braced himself hoping to withstand his opponent's oncoming attack. However, he gravely miscalculated Heihachi's ramming force in relation to his running speed, and fell over like a domino as Heihachi collided into his with a charging shoulder tackle. Heihachi looked down at his fallen adversary and lifted his foot to once again go for a Geta Stomp, but Jack-2 performed a sit-up, bringing both of his long arms up in a double-handed axehandle and down upon Heihachi's head. Stunned from the attack, Heihachi stumbled backwards and gripped his skull while Jack-2 sprung back to his feet.

Snatching Heihachi by his head, Jack-2 lifted the full-grown, heavily-muscled karateka off the ground with one hand as effortlessly as he would lift up a kitten. Rearing back his free hand, Jack-2 once again sent Heihachi flying with a powerful Megaton Punch. Landing flat on his back, the karateka slowly got back up to his feet and narrowly sidestepped a running shoulder tackle from the robot. With his right hand coming out horizontally, Heihachi struck Jack-2 at the hip area with a Kidney Smash before thrusting his left palm into Jack-2 sternum and sending him flying away.

Rather than charge Jack-2, Heihachi instead resumed his fighting stance while his body crackled with his natural blue lightning. This served the purpose of not only showing off, but to intimidate his opponent to remind him that he was not dealing with just any warrior, but a Mishima. "Your strength might be exceptional to everyone else," Heihachi taunted as Jack-2 stood back up and carefully advanced towards him, "but to a Mishima, you are merely a very good workout. How about you come over here and show me otherwise?"

Once Jack-2 was in striking distance, Heihachi spun around to try and stun Jack-2 with a spinning backfist. However, Jack-2 narrowly ducked under the attack and kicked Heihachi in the shin, folding his arms while doing so before pulling his attacking foot back and his opposite foot forward to another kick. Jack-2 repeated this maneuver again and again, kicking Heihachi's shins methodically as if he were performing a dance. "Hey look, he's doing a Cossack Dance," one of the spectators pointed out as Heihachi finally became wish and crouched down so that he wouldn't have his legs broken by the strange-but-stiff kicks. "I guess that big guy isn't such a stiff after all!"

Deciding that he had enough of Jack-2's shenanigans, Heihachi rose back up to strike Jack-2 in the back of the head with a crackling backfist to the side of his head. Stunned by the attack, Jack-2 rose back up and stumbled backwards, allowing Heihachi to continue the assault a left-right punching combination before spinning around for another backfist that made its mark on the opposite side of Jack-2's head. Realizing he was in trouble, Jack-2 stuck his right foot forward and sent Heihachi sliding across the pavement with a big boot to the chest.

"Argh," Heihachi grunted in pain as he rolled back to his feet and gripped his chest in pain. Looking up to see Jack-2 charging at him at full force, Heihachi ducked down and sent Jack-2 flying backwards with a leaping Thunder Godfist. "Why are you showing no signs of damage?" Heihachi said out loud, not really expecting Jack-2 to respond as he landed hard on the pavement with a loud thud. "Fall down and stay down!"

"I cannot do that," Jack-2 responded, his voice completely void of fatigue as he stood back up like he had just lost his footing, instead of the impromptu fight through the air he was privy to. "I do not have the program installed that registers pain and fatigue. I imagine if I did have this program, it would be activated at this very moment." Jack-2 advanced towards Heihachi carefully as the elder karateka patiently waited for the next attack. "Are you in pain, Heihachi Mishima? Do you wish to conclude this fight?"

"Of course I do," Heihachi said as he lifted his arms and blocked a devastating swinging hook punch that sent him sliding backwards. Lowering his arms to see Jack-2 attempt another boot, Heihachi ducked under the attack and swept Jack-2's leg with a low spinning kick, his infamous Hell Sweep, immediately followed by another devastating Thunder Godfist that sent Jack-2 flying away once again. "The problem is that you are getting right back up despite my best efforts to keep you down. I would appreciate if you would fall down quicker: otherwise I might have to do something nasty to you."

"The director of this tournament, designate Kazuya Mishima, has asked that we avoid slaying one another," Jack-2 responded as he was still flying into the air before once again crashing hard into the pavement and standing back up with minimal effort. "If wish want to avoid doing so, I suggest that we reach a conclusion to this fight very shortly. Otherwise, one of us might suffer irreparable harm to our physical structure."

"Excellent," Heihachi said with a smile before once again charging his lightning-like ki. "Come forth, giant one: let me see what you can do when you are trying to end a match rather than entertain a crowd!"

"Yes," Jack-2 responded as his gathered his own natural energies, yellow explosions riddling his body. Turning his head to see Jane staring intently at the battle going on, a look of worry on her young face, Jack-2 nodded his head at her before turning back to the oncoming Heihachi and charging forward to meet him head-on. "Jane is becoming restless: for her sake, I shall end the fight now so that we can move on!"

The two fighters collided with one another like sumo wrestlers, creating a loud shockwave that almost blew poor Jane right out of their seat. After the collision, Heihachi attacked with a quick left punch to Jack-2's face, but the robot shrugged it off and responded with a punch to Heihachi's nose. To his surprise, Heihachi shrugged off the attack just as easily and responded with a second punch, this time another spinning backfist to Jack-2's ear.

Stumbling backwards, Jack-2 was left open to a pair of left-handed punches, followed by a right straight that knocked the robot off of his feet and onto the ground. Quickly standing back up, Jack-2 clasped his hands together in an axehandle and brought it down upon Heihachi's head. With Heihachi kneeling down in pain from the sudden attack, Jack-2 brought his arms back up to deliver a second axehandle blow to Heihachi's chin and knock him off his own feet.

Heihachi quickly rolled back into his fighting stance and jumped into the air deliver a flying kick. As soon as the kick connected to Jack-2's head, Heihachi spun around in mid-air to deliver a second aerial kick to send Jack-2 spiraling to the ground while Heihachi landed on his feet to catch his breath. To his good surprise, Jack-2 did not get back up immediately after landing. "Are you showing fatigue at last?" Heihachi taunted as Jack-2 slowly got back up. "Whatever happened to your lack of programming!?"

Jack-2 groggily swayed to and fro as his red eyes flickered like candles. "Optical sensors have been damaged, as have navigational system," Jack-2 observed out loud as Heihachi came charging at him with his crackling fist raised. "Repairs shall be required…so this fight must end now." As soon as Heihachi was within grabbing distance, Jack-2 snatched Heihachi out of the air and lifted him high above his head. Then, positioning Heihachi's body so that his head was pointed towards the ground, Jack-2 held onto his opponent tightly and prepared to drive Heihachi's skull into the pavement with a sickening Pile Driver. "You will be experiencing mild head trauma: brace yourself."

Before something nasty could happen, however, Heihachi drove his knee hard into Jack-2's head using his upside-down legs, causing Jack-2 to drop Heihachi and stumble backwards. "You shouldn't narrate your weaknesses," the karateka said before grabbing onto Jack-2's head and ramming his forehead into the robot's. "Now I know what to do!"

Jack-2, realizing he was in trouble, returned the headbutt in kind, hoping that his metal frame would force Heihachi to stop what he was doing. Unfortunately for him, Heihachi just smiled and returned the headbutt even harder. Repeating the maneuver again and again, Heihachi grunted louder with every attack, and Jack-2's struggling slowly significantly.

After the sixth headbutt, Heihachi finally let go to see Jack-2 sway back and forth groggily, his red eyes flickering. "This is the end," Heihachi exclaimed before ducking down and sending Jack-2 flying away one last time with a leaping uppercut that left blue sparks in its wake: the fabled Omen Thunder Godfist known only to Heihachi himself. "Sayonara!"

Jack-2 landed with a horrible thud, but unlike previous times the robot had been knocked down, he did not get back up. Though he made a Herculean effort to push himself off the ground, the Soviet cyborg collapsed on its back, signaling for Heihachi to summon his ki in a show of triumph and dominance. To further add insult to injury, the pin that had been on Jack-2's wifebeater exploded in a mess of smoke and circuitry, signaling that he was no longer worthy to continue fighting.

"My optical sensors have sustained heavy damage," Jack-2 stated as he moved his head to the side to see Jane look at him with eyes of fear and horror. "Jane…please do not worry about me: I still function…"

"Not for long, if you do not give me answers," Heihachi added as he stood over Jack-2's head, his arms folded and his left foot lifted in preparation for a Geta Stomp to the robot's head. "There was a 'Jack' that entered the previous tournament under the Russian banner, and it was absolutely nothing like you. How did you programming become so advanced in such a short amount of time? What business do you have in this tournament, and why is that little girl with you?"

"…You are referring to my predecessor, the original 'Jack' model," Jack-2 explained, remaining perfectly still and not yet realizing that its death would be only moments away if Heihachi did not like what he heard. "the Jack-2 model has been in production since the conclusion of the previous tournament, but so far I am the only model that has gained what you humans call 'sentience.' I entered this tournament to find my creator, Dr. Boskonovitch. If I do so, I can request that he alter my physical structure to resemble that of a human being…and if I do that, I can properly care for Jane and understand what it means to be what living organisms call 'a parent.'"

Feeling something latch onto his leg, Heihachi moved his head to see little Jane clinging onto him. Looking up at the elder karateka with sad, pleading eyes, Jane made her silent plea to save her guardian from an untimely execution. The Japanese man scoffed, and lowered his leg so that he was no longer about to crush Jack-2's head. "What you are doing is a fool's errand," Heihachi stated as he brushed off Jane and began walking away. "A machine is a machine, no matter how closely it may try to emulate a human. Destroying you would be no different from destroying a children's toy…but it is not my place to make little girls cry. Do what you like!"

"Your mercy is noted," Jack-2 stated as he slowly pushed himself off the ground, gently tapping his head to try and fix his optical sensors. "I shall record your mercy in my datab-"

"Don't bother," Heihachi interrupted before watching his limousine once again drive up. "Once I take control of the Mishima Zaibatsu, I will personally see to it that the Jack model is discontinued under Heavy Industries supervision. The last thing I need is more self-conscious robots like you preaching about things like family to flesh and blood like myself…"


	3. R1: Paul vs Nina

"You know what you have to do, Miss Williams."

"I know what I have to do," Nina protested, her voice stern and cold like ice as she bend over closer to the phone booth. "However, I do not see why I have to fulfill my mission right this minute. I am not some marionette that is controlled by your strings: I am a human being with my own ambitions and ideals. Tell your benefactors to be patient, and I will get the job done for them…just not at this very minute."

"Your mission comes first, Miss Williams," the voice over the phone reminded the Irish woman as she bit her lip in frustration. "When you signed the contract, my employer did so under the impression that assassinating the target would be your first and foremost priority. However, rumor has it that you entered this tournament not to fulfill your mission, but to settle a personal vendetta. This is not a business where emotions can get in the way of the task at hand, Miss Williams…"

"That 'vendetta' is a secondary mission," Nina snapped back, annoyed with her contact's smarmy demeanor. "I may not be as old or as experienced as some of my colleagues, but I take pride in being among the best, if not THE best, at what I do. Your employer will be getting his money's worth, I can promise you that. However, Kazuya Mishima has made this tournament well: by giving everyone numbers, I have no way of knowing who my opponent is going to be: I might even be facing the target in my upcoming fight. The only way I can learn Kazuya's location is if I advance through the tournament…so that is what I am going to do."

"Are you so unsure of your abilities that you cannot just infiltrate the Zaibatsu Tower and kill the target while he is sleeping in his room?" the voice asked callously, causing Nina to narrow her eyes in silent anger even though she knew there was no way her contact could know that she was scowling. "For someone who takes pride in being called 'the best,' you seem to be advancing quite cautiously. Perhaps instead of saying 'better than you,' you should be saying…'better than who?'"

"That is not funny," Nina growled. "The Zaibatsu's security system is state-of-the-art, and to break in there is suicide. The target has hired the best in the business to keep him safe, and even I can't take all of them on by myself. The only way I'll be able to accomplish my mission without killing myself is to arrange a meeting with the target. Once I can get myself in the same room with him, I'll be able to neutralize him in close-quarters combat…or at least, that's how it would work with anyone else."

"Why would this target be any different?"

"Because he's a Mishima," Nina explained after a sigh. "Normally I only kill humans, but since the last tournament, I'm not entirely sure that family _is_ human. The target survived falling into a ravine at the tender age of five: anyone else, a kid or not, would have become smears on the rocks. Even if I arrange an audience with the target, there's no guarantee I will kill him outright. That is why I am asking you to give me a portion of the agreed fee now, and the rest of it later: if I want to kill him, I'm going to need to purchase better equipment for it."

"…your request has been declined," the contact replied harshly after a brief pause. "We are paying you far too much money for you to be squandering it on unnecessary party favors. The target is a human being, nothing more: we expect you to neutralize him as such, and to do it quickly. If you fail to do so within the next seven days, then your contract shall be terminated and we will cease doing business with you. Good day, Miss Williams."

Upon hearing the receiver click, Nina Williams slammed the phone back into its holder and stormed away. "Dammit," she cursed as looked at her watch and began walking to her designated fight location. "Who do those idiots think they are, denying me of my necessary tools of the trade. They haven't dealt with these yahoos before…not like the way I have."

When Nina Williams said she was among the best in the world at what she did, she didn't say it to make herself feel better. Her father, Richard, also gave himself a similar title in the same field: assassination. Most parents would disapprove of their children following such a bloody path, but Richard Williams was determined to make both Nina and her little sister Anna even better at the art of killing than he was. Although both of them were quick learners, Nina was the more favored of the two sisters thanks to her ambition to one day "just like her pa."

At an age where most young women of the privileged background that the Williams came from would be concerned about going to college, Nina was making a fortune of her own from the art of snuffing out the lives of others. Her lethal services came at a steep price, but she always practiced what she preached. If her client wanted someone crippled, Nina would ask how crippled and then perform the necessary action. If her client wanted someone castrated, Nina would ask what to do with the severed appendage and proceed with the neutering. If her client wanted someone dead, Nina would ask how clean and carry out the execution as per the specifications.

At the tender age of twenty, Nina Williams was given an assignment that would have made even the most experienced assassins wipe the sweat from their brows: eliminate the head of the Mishima Zaibatsu, Heihachi Mishima. Nina would not have been the first to try and assassinate this man: several others had attempted to do so before her, and each of them failed miserably. Even if one managed to get past all of the bodyguards and security Heihachi surrounded himself with, a would-be assassin would still have to contend with Heihachi himself: a warrior who had earned the nickname "the King of the Iron Fists" due to his ability to overcome just about any obstacle that stood in his way, politically or physically.

Fortunately for Nina, fate presented itself with an opportunity to get close enough to Heihachi without going through all of his security: the inaugural King of Iron Fist Tournament. Thanks to her mastery of Koppouken taught to her by her father, Nina was able to get past the qualifying rounds and become one of the final seventeen competitors that would decide who would receive enough prize money to head into an early retirement. Since Heihachi competed as a normal competitor in an act of self-confidence, which meant if Nina were lucky enough, she would be able to confront Heihachi Mishima, put a bullet in his brain, and succeed in fulfilling the biggest mission of her young career.

While Nina might have had the skills of an experienced assassin, however, she had not quite gathered the patience and discipline of one. Also competing in the tournament was her little sister Anna, who had grown embittered by her father's favoritism of Nina. Whereas Nina Williams had become an assassin, Anna Williams opted for a more peaceful life as a college student. Richard Williams greatly resented Anna for her disinterest in the art of assassination, and treated Nina like a princess as a result. Now that Anna and Nina were pit against one another in the tournament, the two of them would settle their differences as warriors.

Nina managed to emerge victorious in that particular battle, but by the time she finally re-gathered her energies to continue through the tournament, it was already over. Heihachi had been slain by his son Kazuya, tossed off a cliff. As a result, Kazuya Mishima became the new head of the Zaibatsu, and his tyranny made the previous regime seem like a fading memory. Of course, Nina cared little for that: all she could think about was how Anna had thwarted her plans of assassinating Heihachi, and obtaining her fee.

Two years had passed since then, and a new tournament was underway. Her current clients were interested in the assassination of Kazuya, and Nina promptly accepted. However, she also learned about Anna's participation in the new tournament, and once again her vendetta with her sister popped into her mind. Although she really needed the money that her assassination gig would give her, Nina wanted nothing more than to settle things with her sister. To an experienced assassin, this vendetta was childish, but Nina knew, deep without her heart, that blood ran thicker than oil.

_Before he died, Father told me to make peace with Anna, _Nina reminded herself before turning her head and seeing a familiar cartoon playing on a television at a shop window. _I've tried, but I can't accept her getting in the way of my line of work. Rumor has it that she's in the tournament because she's working for Kazuya: how does he expect me to make peace with Anna when we're on the opposite sides? I have to choose between her, or my work…and my father always told me to take great pride in my work._

The most ironic thing about the situation, Nina reminded herself, was that before the first King of Iron Fist tournament, the young woman was having second thoughts about hurting people for a living. Everyone told her she was quite beautiful, and not just out of fear of what she might do them. She could have lived an exceptional life doing things that were considerably more peaceful than bringing an end to other people's lives. With her looks and talents, she could have been a model, or a movie star: why did she continue killing people when she had already made her father proud with how skilled she was at doing it?

Nina never bothered looking up an answer to that question: once Anna became a factor in the tournament and her work, Nina decided that she continued doing it because she wanted to prove herself better than Anna. _We couldn't even agree on this silly cartoon show, _Nina thought as she watched a familiar cat and mouse chase each other around on the television through the window. _She would always root for the mouse despite how much of a wanker he was, and I felt sorry for the poor cat. We'd roll over the carpet pulling each other's hair over something like that…_

"I never figured you'd be the kind of lady to watch cartoons. With that sleeveless purple body suit and matching long gloves and high-heeled boots, I'd thought you'd be paying attention to 'Entertainment Today' or some crap like that…"

Recognizing the voice but not willing to give it any recognition, Nina brushed back her blonde ponytail and continued watching what she was watching. "Hey, what's with the silent treatment?" the source of the voice protested as he stood next to Nina. "Cartoons are fun, too! I personally like that one with the dog and the bird, where the dog always gets squashed or falls from a cliff-"

"I'm not interested in talking about cartoons," Nina interrupted harshly, finally turning her head to her right to see who was she was talking to. As if the young man's ridiculous brush-like blond hair wasn't enough of a giveaway, his koolaid-red gi and black martial arts gloves told her that this man was a fellow original King of Iron Fist alumnus, and probably a competitor in the current tournament, as well. "Are you competing in this tournament, too…Paul Phoenix?"

"Whoa, you actually remembered my name," Paul responded with a look of surprise. "Marshall told me that if I continued living my kind of lifestyle, I'd never get a girl…but a babe like you actually remembered my name from the last time we met! Maybe it's not so hopeless after-"

"I only remembered it because idiots of your caliber don't come every so often," Nina interjected before looking at the pin on Paul's gi. "That pin says that you're Participant One. Since I'm Participant Fifteen, that means you're my opponent this round." Quickly stepping away from the shop window, Nina assumed her fighting stance and waited for Paul to do the same. "Sorry, but it's time to die!"

"Hey, don't be like that, Nina," Paul exclaimed as he put his arms up, showing that he wasn't ready to fight yet. Seeing Nina lower her guard, the American fighter put his hands up against the wall and began doing some stretches. "You know, I've always dug you from the moment I saw you: not just because you're ultra-hot, but because you've got that look in your eye that all fighters should have. You've got the eye of the tiger, and stuff like that…"

"What is your point, Phoenix?"

"Well, from one blonde fighter to another…I was wondering if I could take you out for dinner, or lunch, or whatever it is you want," Paul said after a pause as he pushed himself from the wall and cracked his knuckles and neck. "I might not look like it, but I can be a real gentleman when I have to be. I know this great place back home in the States where-"

"Not interested," Nina answered. "Hurry up and enter your stance so we can get this over with…"

"Fine, fine," Paul responded, looking a little dejected as he entered his fighting stance…before his blue eyes lit up once again. "Hey, how about if I beat you here, you go out with me like that? That sounds pretty fair!"

"If you beat me, I'll consider it," Nina replied before losing her patience and charging Paul, who seemed to have found his smile. "Now come on: show me what you got!"

Hoping to end the battle quickly, Nina lunged at Paul fingers-first, hoping to strike his chest with a needle-like thrust. However, Paul narrowly swayed backwards and avoided the attack, only to thrust his open palm out and send Nina sliding across the ground with a Rubber Band Fist. "Whoa, careful there, sweetheart," Paul said as Nina sprung back to her feet and attempted to resume the assault. "You could have really put me down there with that!"

"That's the idea," Nina shout out loud before ducking under Paul's high kick and knocking him off of his feet with a sweeping double kick. Quickly rising back to her feet, Nina lifted her left foot and grounded the sharp heel of her boot into Paul's stomach, causing the American to writhe in pain. "Now if you hold still, I'll make your trip into the coma ward as painless as possible."

Realizing that Nina wasn't going to stop grinding anytime soon, Paul rolled to the side and forced Nina to lift her foot and take several steps backwards so as not to get blindsided by the rising Phoenix. Once he was back on his feet, Paul returned the favor done to him by lifting his left foot and pushing it into Nina's stomach like a fireman would kick a door down: an attack he appropriately named "the Boot" upon his inception. Nina gripped her stomach in pain while Paul retracted his foot, allowing him to put some distance between her and Nina and rub his irritated midsection from where Nina's heel had been rubbing into it like a smoker would rub out a burning cigarette butt.

Quickly recovering from the foot to her stomach, Nina looked up just in time to see Paul try to resume his assault. Lifting her arms just in time to catch Paul's high punch, Nina twirled the Judo fighter's arm around and forced him to land flat on his back. Rather than stop there, however, Nina fell to the ground with the arm still in tow and began pulling on it, locking Paul into an armbar. "There are no tapouts accepted here in the King of Iron Fist tournament," Nina reminded Paul as he shout out in pain while Nina threatened to rip apart the muscles in his arm, if not break it outright. "Sorry, but this is really going to hurt!"

"N-not yet," Paul said through clenched teeth as he used all of his arm strength to pull his arm away from Nina and break free. Rising back onto his feet the same time Nina did, Paul once again shot out his fist, this time at Nina's chest. The resulting successful impact sent Nina flying backwards and rolling on the ground helplessly like a tumbleweed, and allowing Paul the time he needed to shake his attacked arm around to try and get some blood flow going into it.

_What the hell was that?, _Nina thought as she struggled to get back to her feet, the impact of the punch still feeling as fresh as when she initially received it. _Out of nowhere just came out and leveled with a punch that feels like a bloody cannonball. I guess this guy isn't the weakling that I thought he was. _Looking back up to see Paul charging at her with his eyes burning with violent intent, Nina once again went lowered her body and swept the charging Paul off of his feet, causing him to fly over her uncontrollably and landed right on his face several feet behind her. _Luckily for me, he's still a total idiot._

"Oyyy," Paul groaned as he pushed himself off the ground and shook his head to try and clear away the stars that were clouding his vision. Turning around to see Nina take to the air with a jumping kick, Paul lifted his arms up and caught the attacking leg. Landing on her foot that was still feet, Nina swiped at Paul, hoping to force him to release her leg. After Nina missed the second swipe, Paul gave the leg a sharp twist using all of his strength, causing the woman to spiral in mid-air like a pinwheel before landing hard on her hip. As Nina groaned and held her hip, Paul lifted his fist and brought it down on Nina's kneecap, drawing for his natural lemon-yellow ki while eliciting a cry of pain from the Irish assassin.

Lifting her right leg to kick Paul in the shin while he leaned down to try and attack again, Nina rolled backwards and returned to her feet, a little bit worse for wear. Paul, being the impatient man that he was, once again charged Nina with his fist raised. The Irish assassin, though impatient in her own right, held her anxiousness in just long enough for her to sidestep another one of Paul's devastating straight punches and attack with a devastating attack of her own: both of her palms plunging into Paul's hip and ribs, sending him spinning away like he had just been sucked into a vortex before he landed on the ground awkwardly on his arm.

"AGH," Paul let out a shout of pain as he stood back up and gripped his shoulder. "That really hurt: I landed weird on my arm," Rolling his arm back and forth to check if anything was broken, Paul breathed a sigh of relief when he didn't feel any excruciating pain. "Good, it just hurts…it's not broken."

Nina, on the other hand, cared very little for Paul's self-assessment of his well-being. "If nothing is broken yet, that means I'm not doing my job," Nina exclaimed before running towards Paul before taking to the air and forcing Paul to the ground by wrapping her legs around his body in mid-air with a flying body scissors. "I'm going to fix that right now!"

Reaching over to the arm that Paul had been gripping, Nina pulled on it as hard as she could, causing hyperextention in the arm and making the pain the American was feeling even worse than before. Upon hearing Paul cry out in pain, Nina pulled even harder, hoping to hear a loud snap next. "If you're crying out like that, then that means I'm making progress," the Irish woman commented as she pulled as tight as she could against Paul's struggling. "Look at the bright side: if I break it, then beating you will be a lot easier and I can send you into your coma quicker!"

"T-that's not the way I roll, sweetheart," Paul exclaimed as he finally pulled his arm free of Nina's grasp. Realizing that Nina was trying to snake her arms over to his leg to try and break that limb, Paul willed himself back onto his feet with Nina's legs still wrapped around him like a snake. "I'm training to be number one in the universe: I could never live with myself if I got knocked off in the first round!"

"What makes you think your reason to move on is better than mine?" Nina asked as she thrusted her powerful hips, hoping to force Paul back down to the ground to apply her submission holds. "I'm entering this tournament on business: if I don't do my job, then I don't get paid! Unfortunately, the only way to do my job is to go past this round…so sorry to burst your bubble!"

"Hey, I'm sorry about that but-STOP THRUSTING SO HARD," Paul screamed as he had trouble maintaining balance, spinning around in circles while Nina continued thrusting to try and force him down. "Hey, I'm sorry that I'm keeping you from doing your job, but I've got to prove myself to be number one in the universe! Everyone keeps telling me it's a idiot's dream, but it's something I have to do!" Finally deciding that he had enough of Nina trying to force him to the ground and go right back to pulling him apart like a turkey (though he did admit the method she was trying to do it with wasn't too horrible), Paul used his impressive arm strength to pull Nina off of him and throw her to the ground, causing her to land hard on her back and elicit a groan from the young lady.

Once again shaking his arm to get blood circulating through it, Paul watched as Nina slowly stood back up and rubbed her back. Once she was back onto her feet, the hot-blooded American used his shoulders and upper back as a striking weapon and sent Nina right back down the ground with a body check. Rather than rashly continue the assault and fall into another one of Nina's traps, Paul instead waited until Nina was looking at him, and then lifted his left hand and motioned for Nina to come at him.

Nina, not amused by Paul's cockiness, brushed back her hair and shot out both of her palms for her patented Blonde Bomb maneuver. However, this time Paul was able to block the attack, preventing any serious harm to his body though he was still pushed back a couple of feet as a result of the impact. Paul responded in kind, but not kindly, with another of his devastating straight punches, his powerful "Phoenix Smasher," but Nina was also able to throw her arms up in time to block the attack.

Now that considerable distance was put between them, Paul and Nina took a moment to catch their breaths and gather their respective energies. Most of the damage Paul had taken had been in his limbs, with his opponent trying to break them and severely limit his arsenal. Nina, on the other hand, had been taking most of her damage in her back and midsection, which made it difficult for her to breathe properly. Neither of these weaknesses escaped the attention of the two fighters, who contemplated what to do next when they engaged once again for what was probably going to be the final skirmish of the fight.

"So…what's your preference, sweetheart?" Paul said between a long breath before slowly assuming his fighting stance once again. "Would you prefer candlelight…or streetlight?"

"That…depends," Nina said equally tired breaths while she gathered her golden ki. "Do you want to be at an expensive hospitial…or a cheap one?"

"I…you know what, I'll let you decide either way," Paul said with a smile as he charged Nina while waited for him with a stern, unforgiving glare. "I'm just a gentleman like that!"

"Well, that's too bad," Nina said as a thin smirk formed on her lips, "because I am certainly not much of a lady." As soon as Paul was within striking distance, Nina's leg shot out as if she were delivering a punt…a punt that connected right with Paul's genital region. Caught completely by surprise as he suddenly felt his breath leave him, the American fighter immediately stopped dead in his tracks and gripped his crotch in agony.

"Not…cool," Paul said between strained breaths.

"Maybe not, but it's effective," Nina pointed out before driving her knee into the bent-over Paul's chest. After doing so, the Irish assassin once again grabbed onto Paul's arm and pulled back on it, placing him in a standing armbar. "Now, hold still! This time I'm going to break your arm, and then force you to the ground so that I can make you pass out. You can either do this the easy way…or the hard way!"

When Nina tried to force Paul to the ground with an armbar takedown, however, Paul pulled his trapped arm out and pushed his other arm in, once again connecting with a devastating Phoenix Smasher that sent Nina flying backwards like a thistle in the wind. By sheer force of will, Nina managed to roll back onto her feet, though a second later she fell down onto one knee to catch her breath. Recognizing an opportunity when he saw one, Paul charged Nina at a full run and tackled her to the ground, effectively mounting her.

"One, two, three," Paul counted as he dropped three stiff punches onto Nina's head before grabbing onto her head and placing her in a chinlock. Nina stuggled wildly, rolling and tumbling with Paul as he held onto her like an angry gorilla on her back, but it was no use. Nina had all but exhausted her energies, and Paul apparently had more gas left in the tank than she did. Eventually, her struggling ceased and she went limp in the wake of Paul's Ultimate Punishment. Immediately after she did so, the pin on Nina's left breast fizzled and eventually burst in a puff of smoke, signaling Nina's elimination from the tournament and telling Paul to let go to let Nina catch her breath.

After a full minute of remaining motionless, Nina finally opened her eyes to see Paul standing over her, his hand outstretched to help her up. "Need a hand, sweetheart?" he asked with a boyish grin on his face, taking plenty of pride in his well-earned victory. "I know a shortcut to the hotel: you can get washed up and we can go out on that dinner you promised me."

"I…told you that I would consider it," Nina said before groaning and forcing herself back onto her feet without Paul's help. "Besides, now that you've kicked me out of the tournament, I'm going to be way too busy to be going out on dates. From this moment onwards, every single night is going to be spent trying to figure out how to fulfill my mission…and settle things with Anna."

"Anna…you mean your sister?" Paul blinked before a smile formed on his face. "Say, how about this: if I find your sister and bring her to you, would you go out with me then?"

"…I'll do you one better," Nina replied with a sly smirk on her face. "How about if you go undefeated throughout the tournament: then I will go out with you, guaranteed. I don't play with amateurs…so you're going to have to prove that you're a professional just like me!"

"…fair enough, sweetheart," Paul responded, his smile only widening as his confidence boosted. "I look forward to seeing you on the winner's circle!"

Watching Paul saunty away with extra spring in his step, proud of his victory and prospective date, Nina rolled her eyes and walked over to a nearby cab stop. She didn't really expect Paul to fulfill his end of the bargain, which was the reason why she suggested it in the first place, hoping it would scare him off. However, his arrogance seemed to get the better of his better judgment, and accepted Nina's outrageous deal. _Maybe it's not arrogance, though, _Nina mumbled as a taxi pulled up next to her. _He did manage to beat a professional like me fair and square…maybe he's not as full of tripe as I originally thought. _

The young woman let out an exasperated sigh before telling the cab the address of her hotel and thinking about the young man that just defeated her. _If by some freak chance I do have to swallow my pride and let him take me out, though…I am definitely going to make him do something about the ridiculous brush head!_


	4. R1: Kazuya vs Michelle

"I hate this stupid numbering system," Michelle said out loud to no one in particular as she parked her motorcycle next to a relatively large rock and stood up from her seat. "In the last tournament, we at least had the decency to know the names of whoever we were facing beforehand, or at least there was a tournament bracket available for use. Now all I see are a bunch of numbers: how am I supposed to know who I'm facing in this round and prepare myself?"

The answer to that question, she reminded herself, was that Kazuya Mishima was an arrogant scumbag who had no respect for the people competing in his tournament. At least knowing his opponent's name would have made it evident that he at least acknowledged his foes. However, giving people numbers instead of names, as if they were his prisoners rather than his guests, proved to Michelle that he had no regard for the near-ritualistic approach she took to martial arts tournaments.

When she woke up that morning, Michelle's pin called out to her designated number of "Two" in a harsh, mechanical voice, telling her to arrive at 1400 hours at the mountainside she had just reached. The mountainside was quite large, and finding her opponent would have been absolutely impossible if not for the exact coordinates that the harsh voice gave her. Even then, she had to look at a map to see what exactly the voice was talking about: it didn't even give her much in the way of landmarks.

Turning around to look at the impressive view of the landscape below, Michelle walked over to the ledge and sat down to admire the view. _If they had just told me that the view was like this, I could have found it a lot easier, _she mused as she saw an eagle soar in front of her. _Maybe if I'm lucky, that five minute grace period my opponent has will expire and I'll advance to the next round automatically. It would be a shallow victory, but I have to get it any way I can so that I can save my mother…although, I doubt my father would approve of me getting a win like that. _

When she was learning martial arts from her father, back when he was still alive, Michelle was taught that every person is great within their own minds, and that no one believed themselves to be a villain no matter how dastardly their deeds may be. "In the mind of the transgressor, every evil deed they do is something that is justified in their eyes," he told her when she was young girl. "If want an evil man to change their ways, you must first show them why what they are doing is wrong: if you just beat them senseless without doing that, then nothing will stop them or someone else like them from repeating their mistakes."

Her father practiced what he preached, and he was often considered as much of a businessman as he was a warrior, and his charisma was unmatched in both fields. Simply by the gift of his sharp tongue, he was able to maintain a healthy way of life for both himself and his family. Even the mighty Mishima Zaibatsu, one of the most powerful business conglomerates on the planets, stood up and took notice of the Chang family. While they might have lived a modest way of life, they were capable of so much more if Chang wished it.

The reason the Zaibatsu suspected the Chang's potential for grandeur was not because of the head of the household's martial arts techniques or even his high intelligence in the business arts, but rather because of an family heirloom that had been passed down in the family for generations. The family heirloom in question was a golden pendant that was believed to actually be a key to a sacred Native American treasure. Curious as to what this Native American treasure was, Heihachi Mishima sent his men over to the Chang's home to see if they could coerce Mr. Chang to assist in their expedition.

However, when Mr. Chang became offended by their greed and ordered them to leave, the Zaibatsu's men decided to use force to make the martial artist bend to their rules. In the resulting conflagration, the Zaibatsu's men wound up slaying the martial artist, and leaving the Chang household fatherless. Before his death, however, Michelle's father entrusted her with the pendant and made her swear that she would keep it safe from the wrong hands. "Even though they might not see it as the wrong thing to do, should they discover the use of the pendant," he told her with his dying breath, "there are some mistakes that cannot be fixed. It is up to you to prevent those mistakes from happening…"

When Michelle turned 18, her mother informed her of the identity of her father's killer: the Mishima Zaibatsu, sent by its leader Heihachi. At the same time Michelle learned this, Heihachi announced the first King of Iron Fist tournament and that he himself would enter. With thoughts of revenge fresh on her mind, Michelle entered the tournament hoping to break the neck of the man she held responsible for the death of her father. By combining her father's brand of Chinese Kenpo with professional wrestling techniques that she had seen on television, Michelle was able to become one of the final seventeen competitors.

With her chances of facing Heihachi Mishima greatly enhanced, Michelle was feeling confident until she was matched up with a purple-clad female ninja wearing a fox mask and wielding a stealth knife. The unknown red-haired ninja, it seemed, was a former member of a chivalrous band of thieves who decided to go into business for herself, and wanted to make Michelle's pendant her latest prize. Remembering what her father told her before he died, Michelle was forced to use all of her fighting ability to drive off the ninja's ambitions and advance to the next round.

Unfortunately, Michelle was unable to face Heihachi during the tournament, and he eventually fell at the hands of his son Kazuya Mishima. Once news of Heihachi's supposed death sprang up, Michelle decided it was a case of good riddance to bad rubbish and returned home. Though she did not actually win the tournament, advancing as far as she did made her a hero to her community. Young children from all across her village and even some of them from the city came to her, asking her to teach them what she knew.

Although Heihachi was gone, Michelle couldn't get rid of the nagging feeling that she had been cheated out of a true victory, even as she continued her father's teachings of making the enemy realize the error of their ways so that they could not transgress again. In her mind, Kazuya had robbed her of her chance to regain her family's honor and set her father's soul to rest. "If only I could face Kazuya myself and defeat him," she would tell herself as she saw the man on the news almost daily, drawing attention to himself with his outrageous political and military moves such as attempting to build up his own army, or laying out the woodwork to his own independent nation. "If I beat the guy who beat Heihachi, then I'll know that if Heihachi and I did meet during the tournament, I could have beaten him!"

Irony would rear its ugly head two years after Kazuya rose to power. After making Heihachi's previous Zaibatsu reign seem like a trifle in comparison to the reign of terror that the next-of-kin orchestrated, Kazuya decided that he would continue his father's research of the sacred pendant in Michelle Chang's position. Rather than confront Michelle personally, however, Kazuya instead opted for a more indirect approach. He ordered the kidnapping of Michelle's mother, the only parent that she had left. If Michelle wanted to see her again alive, she would have to go to Japan and fetch her herself, and surrender the pendant to the Zaibatsu.

"Are you Michelle Chang?"

Upon hearing an unknown voice call out her name, Michelle broke out of her daydream and turned around to see a trio of well-built men wearing black business suits and sunglasses. "That's my name," Michelle said with a thin smile before swinging her legs back and backflipping onto her feet. Pulling up her zebra-print socks, the young woman put her hands on her hips and tilted her head. "You three stooges don't look like you're competing in the tournament. What do you want?"

"We come from the Mishima Zaibatsu," one of the men said before all three of them reached into their pockets and simultaneously pulled out identification bearing the Zaibatsu logo, as if they had rehearsed it long in advance. "We have come to retrieve the pendant from you. Please surrender it quietly, or we will be forced to use extreme measures."

"Show me my mother first, and then I'll consider it," Michelle replied as she clenched her fists. "I'm not giving you anything until I know that she is alright."

"…give us the pendant first, and we will take you to her," another of the men answered after a moment's pause. "We at the Mishima Zaibatsu are men of our word: if we agreed that she was to be returned to you unharmed, then that is the condition she is currently in. Please give us the pendant now, or we will be forced to take action that would otherwise be unnecessary."

"…I don't have it with me," Michelle answered coolly, slowly raising her fighting stance upon seeing the three men getting ready to attack her. "If you want to attack me, then go right ahead. I could use a warm-up, and it just reminds me about how much of a scumbag your boss Kazuya really is! Three men ganging up on a woman when there's no one else around: you people are real sickos!"

"Perhaps…but the leader of these 'sickos' is not entirely without merit."

--------

Michelle and the three men, surprised at the familiar voice, all turned their heads to see the devil that they were speaking of become a factor in their conversation. Sporting his trademark purple tuxedo, though his equally-identifiable silver-studded red gloves were missing, Kazuya Mishima stepped between Michelle and the three men with his arms crossed. "What seems to be the trouble here?" he asked, only sounding half-interested, like how a sports fan would ask how the local club was doing.

"Your goons are threatening me," Michelle protested, pointing an accusing finger at the trio. "If you have any honor whatsoever, call them off! You said that you had no idea who is facing who in this tournament, so I expect not to be harassed by your lackeys to try and soften me up!"

"…you are absolutely right," Kazuya said with a nod before turning to his three men. With his eyes narrowing into a chilling glare, the Cold-blooded Prince asked made a simple demand. "Tell me why you three are here when I gave all of my underlings orders not to be present at any of the battles unless you were given an identification pin."

"We…knew how much this pendant affair means to you, sir," the same man who had made demands to Michelle answered to Kazuya, standing up straight and attentive while his partners did the same. "We tracked Michelle down from the hotel and followed her here so that we could force her to give up the pendant. After we take her to her mother, or even if we roughed her up so that she is too tired to fight, her opponent would be able to advance past her and she would no longer be a problem for us."

"_That is actually a very good idea," _Devil's voice whispered in Kazuya's ear. _"If they take the pendant from her by force, then you will not only have what you desire, but she would be completely helpless against your might. You could break her like a twig, and then toss her broken body off of this mountainside. She would become an example to all who dare refuse your demands, and no one would be any the wiser of what truly transpired here…"_

Kazuya paused to think about his "partner's" words, but a familiar female voice presented a different side of the argument. _"Kazuya, there is no honor or fulfillment in such a tainted victory. This woman has done nothing to warrant such a travesty to occur to her. If you wish to claim what is hers, prove your resolve to her in one-on-one combat. If you let your men do your work for you, you will appear lazy to her…and that is not what you want to appear as."_

"…if I let you idiot do my work for me, I will appear lazy," Kazuya finally said out loud, his voice an angry growl. "Do you think so little of me that you believe that I cannot fight my own battles?" Grabbing the central man by the neck and lifting him into the air, Kazuya's lips curled back into a snarl as the man struggled wildly to breathe. "Is that what you think!?"

"N-no, sir," the man said with a strain.

"Then leave," Kazuya grumbled, dropping the man onto the ground and watching him scramble back to his feet. "Do not show your faces to me again, and I better not see you at any of the other tournament sites, either." Watching the three men quickly walk away, with two of them trying to comfort the central man who looked like he had just stared death in the face, Kazuya let out a scoff before turning around to face Michelle. "Now…just to clarify, Miss Chang, are you Participant Two?"

"And you must be Participant Eighteen, Kazuya Mishima," Michelle said before slapping her face a couple of times to mentally prepare herself. After checking her socks once again, the young Native American martial artist assumed her fighting stance and smiled. "The spirits of my people smile upon me: I have the opportunity to rescue my mother and put an end to your evil in the first round! For robbing me of my chance to defeat Heihachi, I'm going to take you down!"

"You are welcome to try," Kazuya said with a smirk before assuming his own fighting stance. "The battle begins now: come on!"

"_Why did you not listen to me?" _ Devil asked Kazuya as they watched Michelle charge at him, abandoning all inhibitions knowing that her enemy was right in front of her. _"You could have made this an easy victory, and now you will have to fight her at full strength: strength that you could be conserving for later rounds. I have led you so far: why would you forsake me now?"_

_Stop whining, _Kazuya replied as he sidestepped Michelle's flying punch and grabbed onto her body just as her feet touched the ground again. Attempting to lift her off the ground and slam her into the dirt like a sack of potatoes, Kazuya's throw attempt was unsuccessful as Michelle pushed herself away from the Zaibatsu leader and took several steps back to put some distance between her and him. _I want to defeat this one on my own strength: if I can do that, then I will have proven to myself that I am truly superior. I arranged this tournament the way I did specifically to prove that I was not afraid to fight as a commoner…so that is what I will do._

"Hey, pay attention," Michelle shouted when she noticed that Kazuya was not looking at her, but rather to his side. "I'm about to kick your butt: the least you can do pay me mind while I do it!" Once again charging towards Kazuya, Michelle planted her left foot forward before flinging herself at Kazuya with her right fist in front of her. Thanks to his conversation with Devil, Kazuya did not see the attack coming in time for him to block or sidestep, and he was knocked off of his feet and onto the ground in the wake of Michelle's Hunter technique.

"…impressive," Kazuya said as he sprung back to his feet and resumed his fighting stance. "You hit hard for someone of your common background." Seeing Michelle charge at him once again to press the offensive, Kazuya exhaled and waited for Michelle to attack. When she did so with a straight left punch, Kazuya lifted his left hand and swatted the punch away before thrusting his right first forward and sending her tumbling backwards with a Soul Thrust to her midsection. "Unfortunately for you, I am far above the teachings of the common background."

Michelle rolled onto her feet and resumed her fighting stance just in time to see Kazuya charge at her at a full run. Ducking under his running jump kick, Michelle rose back up to drive her fist into Kazuya's chin, stunning him long enough for her to bring her lifted arm back down in a hammer to his collarbone. The impact of the attack toppled Kazuya over a domino, forcing him to rub his collarbone while Michelle stood over him, waiting for him to get up.

Kazuya kicked Michelle in the shin while he was still grounded, the Cold-Blooded Prince stood back up and delivered a pair of quick left-handed punches to Michelle's nose. Quickly capitalizing on the stunning properties of the swift hits, Kazuya shot out his right hand and connected with Michelle's chest to send her sliding across the dirt with the final touch of his Flash Punches. On one occasion, he shattered a thick glass window with the final hit of that punch, but Michelle quickly stood back up and showed no ill effects of the attack.

Michelle carefully advanced towards Kazuya, who cautiously waited for her to come at him. Once she was within striking distance, Michelle shout out her right leg for an attempted kick at her opponent's temple. Kazuya blocked the kick relatively easy, but the next attack caught him by surprise. As soon as her boot connected with Kazuya's arm, Michelle spun around and crouched after completed her rotation to strike Kazuya in his ankle with a low kick. When Kazuya leaned down to prevent further damage from occurring, Michelle rose back up to knock Kazuya off of his feet and into the air with a rising uppercut: a technique she called "the Razor's Edge."

Kazuya rolled backwards as soon as he landed, narrowly depriving Michelle of an opportunity to follow up on her attack. Returning to his feet and resuming his fighting stance, Kazuya reached out to grab the oncoming Michelle. Once he had a firm grip on the woman, Kazuya lifted her off the ground only to fling her back into the hard dirt floor with a hip toss. Looking at his fist, and then at the fallen Michelle, Kazuya jumped straight into the air and attempted to pounce on the young woman with a fist drop.

By some miracle, Michelle was able to lift her leg up and put it between her and the falling Kazuya. As a result, Kazuya landed onto on Michelle's body, but with her hard boot colliding with his chin and causing him to stumble backwards. "You know, you're not as tough as I thought," Michelle said confident as she sprung back onto her feet and trapped his arms between her own to place him in a Butterfly Lock. Bending over backwards while lifting Kazuya into the air using all of her upper body strength, Michelle planted Kazuya into the dirt right on his back with an Arm Lock Suplex. "You're strong, but you're not unbeatable."

"I beg to differ, young lady," Kazuya retorted before sitting up just in time to see Michelle jump into the air for a Double Foot Stomp. In an act of pure athleticism and power, Kazuya put out his arms and actually caught both of Michelle's legs, preventing her from even hitting the ground, much less stomp on his head. "I am specifically controlling my temper so that I do not accidentally turn you into a smear on the rocks. Being the King of Iron Fists, it's rare that I have an opportunity to fight an opponent such as yourself, so I don't want to exhaust myself."

Before Michelle could even struggle free of Kazuya's grasp, the Cold-Blooded Prince launched Michelle back into the air like a child would toss his pillow into the air. Rather than catch the metaphorical pillow, however, Kazuya charged his neon blue ki and knocked the Native American from the sky with his signature Electric Wind Godfist. The impact of the attack made a sharp echo across the mountainside, and Kazuya could still hear the sound bounce across the canyons even as Michelle landed flat on her face.

Michelle slowly pushed herself off the ground, her body still crackling with Kazuya's energy. Letting out a groan as she finally stood up, the young woman wiped her nose off with her arm before resuming her fighting stance. When she did so, she saw a crimson smear on her arm that she rubbed her nose with, and immediately realized that she was bleeding. "Damn," Michelle cursed before charging Kazuya again and driving her elbow into his stomach with a move she liked to dub the Party Crasher, knocking him down as a result. "I didn't think you hit me THAT hard!"

"Ugh, did you think I was just playing with you?" Kazuya responded before rising up and striking Michelle in the chin with a snapping kick, immediately followed by a quick jab that caused her to back off. "That was my Electric Wind Godfist: a move within the Mishima dojo that I have perfected to the point where no one else my family can execute it with the precision and deadliness that I can. If I was forced to use it, then you should feel honored."

"Well, I don't," Michelle spat back before moving her head just time to avoid Kazuya's standing roundhouse. Countering with a quick punch to the face, Michelle spun around the Cold-Blooded Prince as he gripped his face and placed him in a waistlock. "I can't feel satisfied with myself unless I defeat you and save my mother!"

Realizing he was in trouble, Kazuya wrapped his left leg around Michelle's left leg to prevent her from lifting him off of his feet. "Why are you so obsessed with defeating me and advancing through this tournament?" Kazuya asked as he tried his best to keep Michelle from lifting him off of his feet, despite how much she tried do and how she was fully capable of doing so thanks to her muscular thighs and toned arms. "If you desire your mother, all you have to do is give me the pendant. It would certainly be much less painful than beating you like a dog…which I will be doing very shortly!"

"You don't-ugh-get it at all," Michelle shouted between a grunt as she moved her left leg so that it was no longer wrapped around Kazuya. "I don't care about that stupid pendant! The reason I'm fighting you is because my father thought it was special…and that you robbed me of my chance to avenge him!" With nothing preventing her from doing what she set out to do from the waistlock, Michelle lifted Kazuya off of his feet and bent over backwards to plant the Cold-Blooded Prince into the ground by his neck and shoulders with a textbook German Suplex.

Releasing her waistlock so that she could stand back up, Michelle turned around to see Kazuya fall over backwards and onto his stomach. There was a fissure in the ground where Kazuya was planted into the ground, and there wasn't much movement from the Cold-Blooded Prince aside from the slight rising and falling of his shoulders. "Whoa…I did it," Michelle said out loud, beside herself that she emerged victorious over the Cold-Blooded Prince. Realizing what she had done, Michelle jumped into the air and pumped her fist in victory before bringing her hands together while looking into the sky. "Thank you, spirits: now, please lead me to my mother so that I can-"

"So you can what?"

With her eyes widening in surprise, Michelle turned her head to see Kazuya slowly push himself off the ground and stand back up. Rubbing the back of his neck with one hand and pointing at his pin with the other, the Cold-Blooded Prince looked at Michelle defiantly. "Until the pin of the loser self-destructs, this battle is not yet over! Stop celebrating a victory that hasn't occurred yet and continue fighting!"

"But…you got dropped right on your head," Michelle protested in disbelief as she frantically resumed her fighting stance as Kazuya came charging at her. "How in the world are you up and about so quickly?!"

"I told you: I am Kazuya Mishima, the reigning King of Iron Fists," the Cold-Blooded Prince reminded the woman before delivering a quartet of punches to Michelle's face. "You would do well to remember it!" After delivering the four punches, Kazuya lifted his left leg and brought it down on the woman's head, immediately following that attack with a second axe kick using his right leg. With Michelle stunned, Kazuya went down low and kicked Michelle in the shin before rising up and driving his fist into her stomach with an electrifying right cross. As Michelle gripped her belly as she once again crackled with energies not her own, the Cold-Blooded Prince spun around once before rising back up and sending Michelle careening away with a Lightning Godfist.

Michelle landed hard on her back and let out a groan of pain before suddenly going limp, her pin fizzling out in a puff of smoke to signal her elimination. However, Kazuya was not satisfied with a mere victory: he still had the matter of the pendant to worry about. Walking over to Michelle's fallen body, the Cold-Blooded Prince lifted her up by her neck and held her into the air. Once he was sure that Michelle was coming to, Kazuya began his interrogation. "Where is the pendant?"

"S-screw you," Michelle replied bluntly.

"That's not the answer I want to hear." Walking over to the ledge of the mountainside, Kazuya held Michelle over the edge and used his free hand to point and the sharp rocks many, manymeters below. "You told me that the only reason you care for that pendant is because your father gave it to you. Does it not bother you that you are living by your father's wishes from beyond the grave? Tell me where the pendant is, and do us both a favor."

"I don't expect you to understand: your father was a jackass," Michelle hissed as she looked down to see what her fate was going to be. "Give me my mother back, and then we can talk about the pendant."

"_She is mocking you, Kazuya," _Devil told his partner as Kazuya stared into Michelle's defiant eyes. _"Drop her to her death, and then raze her homeland after the tournament is over. That is the logical thing to do."_

"_Kazuya, you said you that desired a fair match," _Angel protested. _"Killing her will only do more harm than it does good. If you return this woman's mother, then she will be much more willing to cooperate with you later on. It is more beneficial to have a friend than it is to have an enemy…"_

After thinking silently for several seconds, weighing the options given to him while Michelle was running out of breath, Kazuya tossed Michelle back to the other side of the ledge. "You didn't have a chance of beating me, and yet you fought anyway," Kazuya said with a hint of amusement in his voice while Michelle took several gasps for air. "I suppose you at least deserve to be placed in the 'runner-up bracket.'"

"What…what are you talking about?" Michelle said as she finally regained her breath.

"Your mother is being held at a Zaibatsu complex twenty minutes west of here: I think someone who has done her homework on the Zaibatsu like you know the one that I am talking about," Kazuya explained with a smirk. "The head of the men guarding that facility is my subordinate Ganryu, who competed in the previous tournament. If you can defeat him, then he will give you the keycard to release your mother and then the both of you can go free. If you fail, however, then Ganryu will make you our next prisoner and the two of you will become servants of the Zaibatsu."

"…yeah, I know the place you're talking about," Michelle nodded her head before getting back up and dusting herself off. "Why are you helping me?"

"…I am not entirely sure," Kazuya's smirk disappeared as he folded his arms and motioned to Michelle's motorcycle that was parked nearby. "How about you leave before I decide to come to my senses and retract my invitation?"

"_Why did you do that?" _Devil repeated Michelle's question as the young woman ran over to her motorcycle and drove away. _"You could have done what I said, and end her life. It would have been much easier than-"_

"I have better things to do than burn villages in foreign lands to the ground," Kazuya said out loud before walking off to where his helicopter was positioned. "If Miss Chang manages to defeat Ganryu, then she will have proven her worth as the guardian of that artifact. We already know where they live, so it would be easy to find their home and attack them again to obtain their heirloom. If I killed her, then I would be wasting resources and time trying to find it."

"_Is that the reason why you did it…or is it because you let your weakness rule you?"_

Kazuya snarled as he summoned his blue electricity. "That is a question you had best not ask if you want my continued services. Know your place, devil!"


	5. R1: Jun vs Anna

"_Take a good long look at that statue, kid," _the not-so-doting father told his daughter from beyond the grave as she looked up at the huge statue in front of her. _"One of these days, if you keep on training, people are going to build shrines to you, and they're going to build extravagant statues of you. If you become the champion of this tournament, you might even have a statue before you even reach thirty years of age. Wouldn't that be something to tell your children?"_

"I have no interest in that sort of thing, father," Jun replied before turning away from the statue looking around at the dimly-lit temple that she had entered moments before. "If I become the champion, it will not be because of any delusions of grandeur I might have. If I win, it will be because of my devotion to my occupation, and to the Kazama-ryu vow to cleanse evil. As long as I have the opportunity to confront Kazuya, then I do not care how far I advance."

"_That's a piss-poor attitude for a martial artist to have, Jun," _her father retorted, a hint of scorn in his voice. _"I know you don't enjoy hurting people, but if you want to make a mark on this world, you have to put yourself in the spotlight to make yourself stand out. Once you have that spotlight, you must do everything you can to make everyone pay attention to you and take note of the example you set for them. Take your brother, for example: he wants to start his own dojo and make the Kazama-ryu a public martial art like some two-bit karate pug. While I don't approve of him selling our secrets for profit, I do appreciate how he wants to pass along the Kazama-ryu vow of smiting evil to the public."_

"My brother wishes to have a simple life away from unnecessary danger, and teach others how to live that sort of life free from fear," Jun responded as she walked to the center of the remarkably spacey room. Once she was in the center of the room, Jun slowly assumed her stance and closed her eyes. "If not for my current career path, I would be joining him in his plans to start a public dojo. As you said, father, we must set a good example for others if we wish to spread our teachings of bringing light to the darkness. Evil cannot simply be eradicated with violence, for that will only beget more violence."

After falling silent for several seconds, Jun suddenly opened her eyes and thrust her elbow in front of her while stomping her foot down. When she did so, dust flew off of the wooden planks that composed the floor and in the same direction Jun had thrusted her elbow. Though not a particularly big woman, Jun Kazama had trained long and hard to make the most of her elegant frame. By utilizing her ki in conjunction with her physical training and conditioning, Jun was able to take down enemies much larger than herself, and the elbow she had delivered had taken down such giants on many occasions.

Maximum damage with minimum effort: that was one of the very first strategies hammered into Jun's mind when learning self-defense. When an opponent attacked, they do so with the express purpose of hurting their victim. In order to combat this, Jun was taught to use the enemy's aggression against them, and funnel her own energy into the counterattack. Then, once the opponent is stunned from the counter, use the energy she conserved to its greatest effect to delivering a devastating blow. It was a sound strategy, and one that had won many battles for those within the Kazama clan.

Retracting the elbow, Jun inhaled once again before slowly exhaling and assuming a defensive stance, her right hand near her ear and her left hand near her sternum. If the devastating blow did not defeat the enemy, then the enemy will know that the Kazama-ryu user is not one to be trifled with, and one must be prepared to teach them another lesson. The enemy will try to expend more energy to return the damage done to them in kind, but that could also equate to more damage done to them. The Kazama-ryu user would once again turn their attacking energy against them and deliver a powerful strike.

_That is how it is supposed to go, but those who compete in the King of Iron Fist tournament are the best of the best, _Jun reminded herself before altering her stance into an offensive one, thrusting her right palm out and blowing more dust around the temple. _Some of them have proven their worth in official tournaments, and others let their fists do the talking in the real world. Some fight for the sport, and others still fight because they must. Although my reason for advancing is a just one, there is no way I can truly justify it over my opponent's reasons. For every dream that becomes closer to being fulfilled, another dream is crushed._

"Hello…hello?"

Upon hearing an unfamiliar static-filled voice come from her identification pin, Jun slowly lowered her arms and looked down at her chest where she placed it. Hours before, the voice that came from the pin was harsh and mechanical, obviously masked with a voice medication device. However, this voice seemed natural, lacking the veil of stern secrecy that the voice that told her where her next fight was located possessed. Remembering the instructions she had of how to activate the pin, Jun pressed down in it and spoke. "This is Participant Eight: who is this?"

"Participant Eight…that's Jun Kazama," the voice said after a pause, sounding as if he had just had an epiphany. "Inspector Kazama, this is the Cuckoo's Nest. We're thankful that we found your frequency so quickly. The Mishima Zaibatsu use scrambling devices to keep us from cloning their frequencies. That makes communication between organizations and their agents nearly impossible during the battle…and it also prevents us from knowing which participant is you."

The Cuckoo's Nest was a key word Jun and her employers at the WWWC agreed upon, due to Jun's hobby of bird watching. Just as birds would return to their nest to meet up with the rest of their brethren, so would Jun return to her superiors at their headquarters and be informed of any new intel that they would gather. The Cuckoo's Nest was where Jun would take flight from to investigate whatever mission that she was given by the "mother cuckoo."

Another reason the term was agreed upon, Jun reminded herself, was that it was a slang term for a lunatic asylum, as her superiors often called Jun "crazy" for accepting so many dangerous missions and walking back into them after she miraculously succeeded and came out in one peace. "Cuckoo's Nest, I am Participant Eight from this point on," Jun reminded her superiors before she turned around to look at the war statue again. "Please refer to me as such for the remainder of this conversation."

"Affirmative, Participant Eight," the voice replied, acknowledging the switch in identities. "We have not yet heard back from you in regards to your investigation. Have you found any incriminating evidence involving the illegal animal trafficking?"

"Nothing concrete yet: only rumors," Jun answered accordingly. "At breakfast today, I overheard one of the competitors speak about a project the Mishima Zaibatsu has attempted to complete. It involves splicing kangaroo DNA with that of fossilized dinosaur DNA. I have spotted several kangaroos on the Mishima Estate, but they do not appear to be abused or transformed in any way that would suggest something this grotesque."

"What is your personal opinion on the matter?"

"I have also heard a rumor that one of the kangaroos being worked on is competing in the tournament. According to an eye-witness description, this kangaroo has the upper body strength of a fully-grown man in peak condition, and also possesses the ability to box." Jun chuckled grimly at the prospect of meeting such a foe. "As strange as that may sound, I do recall reading an article about a man from Australia teaching a pet kangaroo how to box. Perhaps Kazuya is taking up after his father and how he taught a bear martial arts…"

"Either way, kangaroos are animals that are protected by law," the voice replied, assessing the information being processed to him. "If nothing else, we should be able to nail him just on the grounds of trafficking kangaroos without the proper paperwork…" The voice paused before suddenly piping up again. "Participant Eight, it is listed here that you are scheduled to face Participant Twenty-One within the next two minutes. Would you like to know who you are facing?"

As soon as the voice asked, Jun heard the sound of footsteps approaching. _High-heeled shoes, _Jun thought as she identified the unique clicking on the floor. "No thank you, Nest. It sounds like I will be finding out soon enough, so it won't make any difference. I have studied the dossiers of each of the confirmed competitors so I am as prepared as I'll ever be," Jun replied as she turned around to see a slender figure veiled in shadow quickly approaching.

"This is the probably the final time we will be able to keep in touch through this device," the voice warned before hanging up with a "skirk." "Give us a call via the usual method when you find out anything more…good luck, Participant Eight."

"I didn't know you could make courtesy calls on these pins," an unfamiliar female voice said, her voice filled with sultriness and feminine charm. "If I did, I would have sold my frequency for the price. I'm sure there are plenty of men willing to pay from their wallets to hear me whisper sweet nothings in their ear as I make my way through the tournament…"

Stepping out of the shadows to make herself known, the source of the voice placed her hands on her head and posed suggestively for Jun. Wearing a ruby-red night dress with a that showed off her ample cleavage, along with matching long gloves and slippers to go along with brown fishnet stockings, the woman seemed more fit for a dinner social than a martial arts tournament. Despite this, Jun could tell just by looking at the smirk on her red lips that this was the aforementioned Participant Twenty-One. "I know who you are," Jun said out loud to break the tension as Anna brushed back her short brown hair. "You are Anna Williams, a Koppouken user from Ireland."

"Oh, so you've heard of me," Anna replied, her blue eyes widening in surprise. "I thought everyone here in this little party didn't who know the guests were. Even Kazuya has no idea who is competing, and he's the bloody sponsor. Tell me, dear: have you been breaking into the Zaibatsu database? That's cheating, you know: I could tell the officials that you've been a naughty girl and get you disqualified."

"No, it's nothing like that," Jun answered, appearing reluctant and taciturn even in the face of Anna's playful and flirtatious demeanor. "I read your file as a list of possible candidates of people I might face. You competed in the previous tournament because your older sister Nina was present in it. You did not get along with your father because you disagreed with his wish for you to become an assassin, as you desired a more peaceful life. When your father scorned you, you blamed his negligence on Nina, and entered the tournament to defeat her so that you could prove that you were the better daughter."

"…you've done your homework, I see," Anna said with a frown as she folded her arms. "Ever since our father passed away, my sister and I have been going all out. A couple of months ago she attached a bomb to my car: if I didn't hear the beeping of the detonator, I wouldn't be standing here right now." The young Irishwoman chuckled as she remembered how far the feud had come. "Still, it's not like I've done much better: I used an automatic weapon to turn her bedroom into a total mess. She freaked out so much when she saw how I ruined her water mattress."

"Why not make peace with your sister? Why do you have to settle things with blood?" Jun suggested before entering a fighting stance. "If you two are family, then you should make an effort to mend your old wounds and act like sisters. I myself have a brother and I've had quarrels with him several times…but it's nothing we cannot resolve with the knowledge that we're related by blood, and that common union shall never be broken no matter how much we argue…"

"Well, that's the problem right there, dear," Anna replied before unfolding her arms. "I don't have my father's taste for death, so I've made it my point to show him that he made the wrong choice by making Nina his favorite daughter because she wanted to follow in his footsteps. It seems my sister has been assigned to assassinate Kazuya…and that's why I decided to become a member of his personal guard. Now it's not just some petty family feud fueling our vendetta: it's business…and right now, you're in the way of business." Lifting her hand and blowing a kiss to her opponent, Anna assumed her own fighting stance. "Tell me, dear…what right do you have to stick your nose into my affairs? Do you think because you're prudent with your little hairband and waistcoast that you're better than me?"

"For one, you are my opponent in this round," Jun answered as she and Anna slowly sidestepped around one another, looking for any openings the other might have. "Secondly, you are under the employ of Kazuya and in conflict with my mission. Thirdly, it is the mission of my clan to bring order out of chaos. Fourthly, I have also read that you enjoy purchasing animal furs to wear. As a member of the WWWC, I cannot condone this use of animal skin…so by default, we are in conflict, and we must now resolve this conflict if either of us wishes to be at peace."

"Well…when you put it that way, I guess you have no choice but to stick your nose into my affairs," Anna said with a shrug before suddenly ceasing her sidestepping and charging forward. "I think I'll celebrate my victory by purchasing a brand new mink scarf, and then go to the club and see if I can have some fun while I get that said scarf all spoiled!"

Once she was within striking distance, Anna crouched down and slid her left foot across the hard floor and tripped Jun off her feet, drawing forth her natural pink ki in the process. Standing back up just as Jun rolled backwards to avoid getting hit again, Anna chased after Jun just as she stood back up and resumed her fighting stance. When she attempted a high palm thrust, however, Jun caught her wrist and forced her onto her stomach, keeping the arm in her possession while she sat on her back and pulled on the arm.

Giving the trapped arm a sharp twist, Jun waited until Anna cried out in pain to let go and allow Anna back onto her feet. "You are too aggressive," Jun stated out loud as Anna shook her arm and resumed her fighting stance. "You had no idea what I was capable of, and yet you charged forward anyway. Why would you do something like that: is it not the job of a guard to defend before attacking?"

"Shut up," Anna snapped back as she lunged forward to deliver a sharp elbow to Jun's forehead. "Don't speak to me like you know better than I do! You don't look any older than me, so don't treat me like a little kid!" Seeing that Jun was stunned from the elbow, Anna followed up with a second one that once again made its mark. "It's bad enough I had to put up with that from my own father: I don't need to hear it from you, too, missy!"

Deciding she had enough elbows in the face, Jun retaliated with an elbow of her own: a sudden strike delivered when she spun around on one foot and drove her joint right between Anna's eyes to send her sliding across the floor. When Anna finally came to a stop, her legs went straight up into the air, as if she had just come to a sudden halt after speeding through the air. Using the swinging momentum of her legs to flip back onto her feet, Anna rubbed where she had been hit. "Hmph...nice hit," Anna said with a scoff as Jun came charging at her to go on the offensive. "Good to see you're not all wait-and-see. A girl has to take some initiative if she wants to get ahead in life!"

Once she was within striking distance, Jun spun around to deliver a spinning roundhouse kick. Unfortunately for her, Anna wound up catching the leg as easily as a baseball player would catch a stray ball. Giving the leg a sharp twist, Anna spun Jun off of her feet and onto her stomach, allowing her to sit down on the officer with the leg still in tow. Pulling back on the leg to apply severe strain, Anna took pleasure in Jun's pain as she locked her in a Half Boston Crab. In addition to applying strain to the lower back, Anna amplified the pain by also bending back on the lower leg, hoping to break Jun's shin, in the process.

Using all of her leg strength to keep from getting her muscles torn apart (or worse yet, her bones broken), Jun pulled her trapped leg down to the floor and away Anna's reach. Rolling over onto her back as Anna tried to lock in the hold again, Jun shot her leg up right into Anna's inner thigh, forcing her to back off so Jun could get back to her feet. When she did so, however, Jun winced when she put pressure on the trapped leg. _She is no slouch in the way of self-defense, either, _Jun mumbled as she shook her leg a bit to get some blood flowing in it again. _I'll have to watch what I use in this fight: anything that could be anticipated is going to do more harm than good._

Anna, realizing an opportunity when she saw one, advanced towards Jun and promptly kicked her in the shin that she had targeted with a horizontal strike she liked to call the Wine Opener. Lifting her foot in response to Anna attacking it, Jun leaned forward and struck Anna in the stomach with a forward punch. The punch stunned Anna long enough for Jun to initiate her next attack: a pair of rising can-can style kicks that launched the launched the Irishwoman off the ground and into the air.

As soon as Anna landed back down to Earth flat on her back, Jun left her feet and planted her shoes down on Anna's stomach with a cartwheel stomp. When she jumped off of Anna's stomach to let her stand back up, however, she once again winced upon landing on her bad leg. When Anna rose back up and tried to attack with a double palm thrust, her Scarlet Bomb, Jun backflipped away to try and put some distance between her and her adversary, hopefully long enough for her leg to stop throbbing.

"I see what you're doing," Anna said with a smile as she charged Jun with a full run. Rather than attack with a punch or a kick, however, she opted to pounce the Japanese officer with a running cross chop to her mid-section. As a result, Jun was toppled over and sent rolling backwards like a ball that had just been kicked by a child, while Anna rose back up the her feet to give herself ample time to prepare for Jun's next attack when she returned to her feet.

Casually walking over to Jun as she slowly stood back up and rubbed her leg, Anna once again crouched to try and attack the damaged limb, this time with a quick low backhanded slap: her Scarlet Sweep. However, this time Jun was wise to defend: she quickly hopped over the low sweep and wound up landing on Anna's hand. As Anna quickly pulled her hand away and rubbed it as she rose back up, Jun countered with a low kick/high backhand combo, immediately followed with a quick palm thrust and a crescent kick that knocked Anna away.

This time, Anna did not immediately rise up. Instead, she lay on the floor and groaned, rubbing where the kick had hit her in the nose. "M-my face," Anna whispered in disbelief as she looked at the dark red smear on her hand. Standing back up and showing Jun the smear like it was stigmata, Anna repeated what she said, only now it was a loud shriek. "LOOK AT WHAT YOU'VE DONE TO MY FACE!"

"I did not think that our faces were off-limits," Jun replied as Anna suddenly charged her at a full run, quite enraged now that her blood was clashing with her make-up. "This is a full-contact martial arts tournament: the only thing that applies are the rules of engagement set forth by-UNF!"

The officer was rudely cut off by Anna's sharp slipper colliding with her crotch area, following by a pair of can-can kicks that knocked Jun away like she had just been hit with a golf club. "The moment you ruined my face, you forfeited any courtesies I've been giving you in this fight," Anna shouted as she ran over to where Jun was pushing herself off the ground and drove her heel into the back of her spine, grinding it add additional damage and pain. "Before I was just going to let you lose your consciousness: now I'm going to rob you of your pride!"

Finally lifting her foot, Anna grabbed Jun by her hair and lifted her off the ground like that. As Jun let out a cry of pain, she quickly remembered her training of how to escape such a situation and reached back to place Anna in a three-quarter facelock, with the Irishwoman's windpipe against her shoulder. After jamming the windpipe against her shoulder with a quick yank, Jun used all of her strength to throw Anna by her head, over the Aiki-Jujitsu shoulder and onto her back. To her surprise, Anna stood right back up without showing too much signs of damage, though her breath was a bit short.

Lunging forward hoping to take Anna off-guard with some aggression of her own, Jun once again attempted a sudden elbow hoping to put some distance between her and her adversary. However, even in her rage, Anna still had her fighting instincts. She ducked under the elbow and thrust her hand out fingers-first into Jun's sternum with a Cat Thrust. The sharpness and velocity of the attack not only drew forth Anna's pink ki, but also some shredded cloth and trinkles of blood, as well.

Jun crumpled to the ground in the wake of such an attack and clutched her chest. However, Anna once again brought her back up to her feet by grabbing onto her hair and pulling. "We're not done here, yet, bitch," Anna hissed as she slapped Jun's hand away and pulled on the torn seems of her cloth. "I told you: I'm out to humiliate you now!" With the buttons holding Jun's waistcoat being forcibly ripped off, Anna got a good look at Jun's white bra and what it was holding. Her hesitation might have allowed Jun to punch her in the throat and break free of her hair lock, but Anna had done her damage when she saw Jun try to cover up. "What are you covering up for? If you've got it, you might as well flaunt it!"

"…I don't believe in that," Jun responded as she slowly removed her hand from her chest and resumed her fighting stance. "Holding back is necessary to make sure that you do not unnecessarily hurt other people. That goes for both martial arts and social life."

"Even now, you're mocking me: you're just like Nina," Anna exclaimed as she ducked under Jun's kick to grab her collar. "For as long as I've known her, Nina refuses to become romantically attached to anyone. She doesn't do this out of concern for any would-be boyfriend and how much danger he would be in if he was caught up with her assassin gig…but because she honestly feels like there's no one out there good enough for her!"

"How does that connect to-"

*SLAP*

Anna silenced Jun by slapping her hard in the face, which preceded several more slaps as Anna continued ranting. "By covering up and not showing what you've got, you think your body is some sacred treasure that no one can witness but yourself! It drives me absolutely zany just thinking about it!" After one final slap that sent Jun flying into the air and landing flat on her face, Anna took a deep breath and lowered her voice. "That's why I'm going to beat you and leave you like this. You're going to be a message to Nina that it's not okay to go around acting superior, hiding your gifts when they should be shown to the world."

"_Listen to her, Jun," _Jun could hear her father's voice in her ear even as she pushed herself off of the ground despite the pain she was in. _"She is being driven by her hatred for her sister, and now channels that hatred to anyone that might disagree with her. She doesn't see you anymore, but her sister." _As Jun stood up, she could see Anna charging her ki. Responding by charging her own firework-like energy, Jun continued listening to her father's words. _"She is consumed by lust: a lust for vengeance, a lust for men, and a lust for blood. Tell me, Jun: what do we do to people who are consumed by lust?"_

…_we show them the error of their ways, _Jun thought as she sidestepped Anna's twin hand thrusts, her lethal Bloody Scissors. Before Anna could even turn around to see that Jun was behind her, Jun wrapped her left arm around the Irish woman's shoulder and her right arm around her neck, placing her in a Kata-hajime, a Half-Nelson Choke. Not even willing to give Anna time to struggle, Jun bent over backwards and drove Anna's head into the floor with a suplex. The impact of the suplex left a small fissure in the ground, but Anna still tried to struggle even as Jun bridged the suplex and maintained her hold on Anna.

Even with all of her blood rushing to her head and what air she had left in her lungs escaping her, Anna kicked into the air wildly in a vain attempt to break free. However, Jun's hold remained inescapable, like an anaconda that had snared its prey. Eventually, Anna's struggling ceased and she went limp, the pin at her hip fizzling out in a puff of smoke.

"_That's the spirit, Jun," _her father's voice rallied as Jun tightened the hold despite the battle being over. Her mind was blank, devoid of any of the compassion and emotion that she had become known for. There was only one thing on her mind now: cleansing the evil that lay within Anna. _"Choke the darkness out of her! Make her see the light…make her pay for her sins!"_

"Pay for her sins," Jun repeated as she smelled the smoke from the dead pin on Anna's body. Removed for her trance, Jun looked to the side to see Anna's crimson face, quickly approaching the color purple as her life began fading. Gasping at what she had done, Jun released her hold and allowed Anna to fall onto her stomach, coughing uncontrollably. "What…what was I doing?"

"_That is the mindset of a true warrior, Jun," _her father explained as Jun scrambled back to her feet, her hand over her mouth as if she had just witnessed a brutal murder. _"In the heat of an intense battle, things like strategies and rules of engagement burn away. There is no thinking: only feeling. You knew that this woman had to be stopped if you wanted to continue on…and stopped her you did."_

"But…I might have killed her," Jun whispered as she turned around to walk away, too ashamed of herself to even watch Anna push herself off the ground and shake her head from the dizziness. "What would have happened if I didn't smell the smoke?"

"_You won, Jun: that is what is important," _the voice replied. _"The method of how you get there doesn't matter: all that matters are the results. If you can keep that in mind, then not even the evil power that lies within Kazuya Mishima can stand up to you! As much as that minx was flawed, there was one thing she was correct about: if you have power, do not be afraid to use it to achieve victory!"_

"In order to smite evil, then I should not hesitate to end the battle as quickly as possible," Jun said out loud as she reached the doorway. Once she did so, she finally turned around to see Anna rise onto one knee, staring at her with defiant, icy-blue eyes. "That is what I have been taught…but does might truly make right?"


	6. Struggle Within

The first round of the tournament, despite Kazuya's best efforts to keep things civil, did not go as planned. Due to the uneven number of competitors, the bracketing for the tournament was awkward, and allowed certain competitors a bye in the next round that would leave their opponents tired from having to fight two matches in a single round. As such, there were considerable complaints from the athletic commissions of the Zaibatsu "fixing the fights" so that some competitors would have an easier time over others. The Zaibatsu fervently denied such favoritism; pointing out that Kazuya was competing in the same first round and was not scheduled for a bye should he win his match.

Fortunately for the Zaibatsu, the aforementioned bye victors proved nonexistent. One of the winners of the bye round dropped out of the tournament voluntary to pursue other endeavors, and another proved too exhausted and injured to continue fighting. Regardless of the reason, the tournament bracket was now even: there were now eight competitors remaining in the tournament, and would combat one another in the second round…

…but not immediately. In order to maintain a good relationship with the athletic commissions and maintain civility between the competitors, the Mishima Zaibatsu arranged a one-day rest period between rounds and a dinner social where the competitors could rest their tired bodies and meet with the other fighters before either going home or moving on to the next round. Given Kazuya's ruthless nature, some of the competitors expected the food to contain poison, but the Zaibatsu chefs assured everyone that the food was safe for consumption, going so far as to eat their own food in front of them to prove their innocence.

With their safety assured, the King of Iron Fist competitors walked onto the Mishima Estate's front lawn and indulged themselves: a dinner of champions befitting of their warrior status. Though some of them would be engaged in bloody combat with one another later on, the competitors used the social opportunity to exchange pleasantries and stories of their past battles. Michelle Chang, having been defeated in the first round, was quick to separate Jun from the crowd and tell her the amazing story that she had to offer, having become attached to her after hearing she won her match by choke-out while using a suplex: a technique that Michelle had thought she was the true mistress of.

"So, when I got to the Zaibatsu facility, a bunch of Kazuya's goons pointed guns at me, asking for identification," Michelle explained to Jun as they continued standing over the confectionary table, not really finding anything to their liking aside from the fudge. "Being that my pin exploded, I didn't really have a way to prove that I was an Iron Fist competitor: I thought I was going to be turned into swiss cheese for sure!"

"Mmhmm," Jun nodded her head, trying her best to keep up with Michelle's excited manner of speech. If Michelle's story was accurate, Kazuya willingly sacrificed his chance to take what he wanted from the Native American in order to give her a fighting chance. From what her intel and her father's spirit told her, Jun had thought Kazuya to be the embodiment of villany: a plague on the Earth that needed to be eradicated. However, Michelle's story described him as ruthless, but undoubtedly fair and not without a sense of morality. "What happened next?"

"That big sumo guy Ganryu told them to put their weapons down and told me that 'someone as beautiful and pure as myself should never have a weapon pointed at her,' and then asked what I was doing there. After I told him that Kazuya sent me, he just assumed his fighting stance and told me to attack from any angle," Michelle said before taking a few steps back and shooting her elbow out in front of her. "He was tough, but he was no Kazuya: I took him down in three minutes with only a few scrapes and aches. After that, he just looked at me with his face red as a beet: I think he might've been thrown off by the power of my arms and thighs."

"And he released your mother, no questions asked?" Jun asked to confirm what Michelle had told her earlier, to which Michelle nodded her head happily. "I would have expected Kazuya to order his men to attack you after you defeated Ganryu when you were still tired, having fought both the sumotori and Kazuya in succession. It would have been the logical thing to do if all he wanted was your pendant, even if it wasn't the moral choice. Perhaps Kazuya is more than what he appears…"

"I still think he's a dick, but he kept his word," Michelle said before spreading her arms and pointing at the black night-dress she was wearing. "Ganryu said that it was an honor to lose to someone as beautiful as I was, and that his only request was that I show up to this social wearing my Sunday best. I'm beginning to think he has a thing for me…not that I blame him though." Striking a sultry pose, Michelle winked at Jun. "When you look as sexy as I do right now, you can't help but bring in the guys…and girls, in some cases."

"You look wonderful, Michelle," Jun said before she looked down at what she wore to the party: a white dress with matching white gloves: ironically, a choice of attire that greatly resembled what her opponent in the first round, Anna Williams, wore to her fight

barring the obvious difference in color. "I could only wish that I looked as amazing as you do tonight…"

"Oh, don't be silly," Michelle replied, patting Jun on the shoulder. "You look awesome yourself: you made it to the second round, and you barely have any noticeable scrapes. Together, you and I are going to be life of the party!"

"M-Michelle-chan…"

Turning her head at the sound of someone calling her name, Michelle saw a portly-built Japanese man wearing a wide tuxedo that supported his bulky frame. With his black hair pinned up and his distinguishable forehead scar, Michelle instantly identified the stockly-built man as the sumo wrestler that she fought for her mother's freedom. Rather than greet the man cordially, however, Michelle walked right into the man's face and began showing her dominance over him. "Hey, big guy, didn't I tell you not to show your face to me until you finished packing my mother's bags?"

"Y-yes, I finished it s-s-several minutes ago," Ganryu stammered, his face turning bright red as he twiddled his thumbs. Jun immediately realized that his stammering was not from anger, but from embarrassment. When Michelle said that she suspected Ganryu had a thing for her, she wasn't just being overly suspicious. "Michelle-chan…I…I was wondering if you and I could-"

"-bring my mother up from the hotel so she can enjoy the party?" Michelle finished Ganryu's sentence for him, even if it wasn't exactly what he wanted to say. After giving Ganryu a light pat on the cheek, to which he turned away out of embarrassment, Michelle pushed the sumo wrestler along towards the entrance of the Estate. "That's an excellent idea, Ganryu: after all, it's the least you can do for giving me and my family all of the trouble that you gave them!"

"Michelle, wait," Jun put her hand on Michelle's shoulder, causing her to stop pushing Ganryu and turn around. "Ganryu is a member of Kazuya's personal guard. Before you go off with him, I would like to ask him several questions…" With a nod of her head, Michelle complied with Jun's request and grabbed onto Ganryu's ear, pulling it so as to lead her submissive sumo wrestler along.

Once he was positioned so that he was directly in front of Jun, Ganryu bowed his head as he watched Michelle walk off to converse with more of the guests. "Your friend is a once-in-a-generation woman," Ganryu stated as he bowed his head out of politeness. "Any friend of Michelle-chan is a friend of mine. To what do I owe the pleasure, Miss…"

"Jun Kazama, WWWC Officer," Jun responded as she bowed her head and lifted up her purse that had been slung over her shoulder. Opening it and pulling out a pad and pen, the young woman began to question Ganryu. "I would like you to tell me everything you can about your employer and any possible suspicions you might have about him in regards to trafficking animals."

"I-it's not my place to say about what my employer does in his spare time," Ganryu said with a stammer, this time out of fear rather than out of embarrassment. Shifting his eyes from right to left to see if anyone was looking at him, the sumo wrestler gulped before continuing. "Kazuya-sama is truly a frightening figure: everyone who has interacted with him, including myself, feels the presence of a demon whenever we shake his hand. It is as if he scans us for any weaknesses, waiting for just the right time to strike."

"Interesting," Jun said as she began writing down what Ganryu had to say. "What would make you think that?"

"When Kazuya first contacted me asking for employment, he knew exactly what it would take for me to accept," Ganryu explained, continuously to turn his head for anyone who might be a threat to him. "As you might have known, I was kicked out of the world of sumo for my gambling addiction, so Kazuya offered me a chance to earn a steady paycheck…and seek what I truly wanted, after witnessing my ideal prize in action during the last tournament…"

Following Ganryu's gaze to where Michelle was conversing with a tall man wearing a golden jaguar mask, Jun nodded her head to acknowledge what Ganryu was talking about. "In return for his services, he promised you Michelle Chang, and that is why he put you in charge of her mother's confinement. How very insightful of him, to expect that you and Michelle would eventually clash…"

"I do not know what he expected me to do with Michelle if I captured her, but I prefer not to think about things that might have happened but did not," Ganryu answered before turning back to face Jun. "Kazuya-sama seeks to rule the world by force, and he does not care who he has to step on in order to do it…or at least, that's how it had been until recently."

"Recently?" Jun repeated, her eyes lighting up upon hearing the new piece of information. "What happened recently?"

"Lately, Kazuya has become…nicer, for a lack of a better term," Ganryu explained, scratching his head as if he was confused by his own words. "Lee-san, who I report to within the Zaibatsu as he is Kazuya-sama's personal secretary and handler of his person guard, tells me that he often hears Kazuya-sama talk to himself for long periods of time. When these conversations are over, Kazuya-sama will step out of his office and make very out-of-character business propositions."

"What do you mean?"

"Normally Kazuya-sama is very harsh and only spends his excess budget on military ventures, but three weeks ago he gave all of his employees a substantial raise in pay," Ganryu answered. "He told us that as his followers, he expects us to reap the benefits of his inevitable conquest. This is only one example of these strange of acts of generosity that Kazuya has given to us: Michelle-chan's story about having her life spared and being led to her mother is another example. To be honest, I believe that all of his power has gone right to his head!"

"_It's just like I told you, Jun," _the young woman could hear her father whisper in her ear while she inspected Ganryu's body language to see if she could catch any indicators of him lying to her. _"Kazuya talks to himself because he is possessed by evil. He listens to his evil quite intently, and obeys them without question."_

_That's what I thought…but Ganryu's story changes my view, _Jun thought back to her father as she lowered her head and thanked Ganryu for his time. _Evil spirits would not prompt Kazuya to perform acts of generosity that did not have a direct benefit to himself. The very nature of evil is to be self-serving, and generosity is decisively not self-serving. I wonder if there's more to Kazuya than I initially suspected…_

"GRROAR!"

An inhuman snarl entered Jun's ears, causing her to break out of her trance and look up to see one of the very last things she expected to see at a dinner social: a giant brown bear, swiping his claws at a clean-shaven Asian man with black bowl-cut hair, wearing a white chef uniform and holding a metal plate of shrimp in his hand. "What in the world?" Jun said out loud as she hurried over to the conflict. "How did a bear of that size enter unnoticed?"

Just as the bear was prepare to use his mighty claws to slice through the man, Jun stepped between the predator and his prey, causing the bear to stop what it was doing and look at the intruder curiously. "Marshall Law, is it?" Jun identified the man, causing the Chinese-American to put his plate down on the table and listen to the young woman. "What have you done to antagonize this bear?"

"I haven't done anything," Marshall protested, pointing an accusing finger at his attacker. "This bear came up to me and gave me a long sniff, and then let out a roar and prepared to cut me down! If it wasn't for you, I would have had to hurt this big creature and make a mess of all of the nice food that I helped prepare…"

Turning back towards the bear that seemed perplexed by her presence, Jun stared into his animalistic eyes and folded her arms. "Is this true?" She asked out loud to the bear, surprising Marshall and the rest of the guests who had taken note of the conflict. The bear nodded its head once before letting out a disappointed growl and going back down on all fours. Placing her hand on the top of the creature's head without any type of fear or restraint, Jun knelt down so that her face was even with the bear. "Tell me…why are you so angry?"

Both Jun and the bear suddenly fell silent, closing their eyes as if they had entered a trance together. There were some confused murmurs among the competitors, wondering who the woman was and what she drank to think that she could tame a bear as ferocious as the one before her. To their surprise, however, when the two opened their eyes again, the bear did not attack Jun, but allowed her to stroke his head. "You are angry because you are disappointed," Jun told the bear before turning her head towards Marshall. "You came here expecting a great battle with someone who angers you, but all you found was this man who happened to carry his scent. You realized that your rival was not here, so you considered attacking this man hoping that your rival would come to you. Why would you do something like that?"

"Because Kuma knows that if he hospitalizes Mr. Law, then his rival would seek him out for a duel rather than the other way around," a gruff voice answered for Kuma, causing Jun to look up to see an intimidating figure wearing a red fur coat looking down at her, his eyebrows raised in curiosity. "Still, if you were able to calm the fury that lay within his heart, then you are clearly someone that has earned my respect! Tell me your name, young lady!"

"My name is Jun Kazama…and you are Heihachi Mishima," Jun replied as she stood back up and did her best to maintain her composure in the midst of such an international icon…namely one who she had suspected was dead. "I was under the impression that had passed on after Kazuya defeated you in the previous King of Iron Fist tournament: this is truly a surprise."

"As you can see, the rumors of my demise were greatly exaggerated," Heihachi said with a sly smile. "Tell me, Jun Kazama: what brings you to such a violent event? Your body are toned and well-cared-for, but you lack the violent intent necessary to advance through this tournament…or at least, that's what it appears to be. Perhaps you are merely holding back your fighting spirit, so that you can throw the rest of the competitors off-guard."

"Actually, I am here on business," Jun answered as she watched Kuma walk past her and go to Heihachi's side. "I have come here to question your son Kazuya about illegal animal trafficking, and then see if I can draw up a warrant for his arrest should I find anything incriminating…although from the looks of that bear you call Kuma, perhaps I am seeking the wrong person."

"I can assure you that I acquired Kuma legally, and have raised him like he was a member of my family," Heihachi replied, his smirk fading at Jun's remark. "Of course, that's not the only reason you're here, is it? You could have just dropped out of the tournament and conducted your investigation incognito, away from the prying eyes of the public. No…you want something else from Kazuya."

"…what are you talking about?" Jun asked, taken aback by Heihachi's comments.

"As a warrior who has traveled all across the globe honing my craft and fighting only the most worthy of opponents, I am quite familiar with the legendary Kazama-ryu Ancient-style Martial Arts dojo. In fact, I have even had the honor of sitting down and drinking tea with some of its practitioners," Heihachi answered before motioning his head behind him and turning around to walk away from the crowd surrounding them, prompting Jun to follow his lead and listen carefully to what he had to say. "The mission of those who carry the name Kazama is to cleanse the world of evil, wherever it may roam. If you are competing in this tournament, then you are not here for investigating whatever awful deeds he might have done. You are here to arrange a meeting with Kazuya to try and rid him of the evil spirits that surround him."

"How would you know of these evil spirits?" Jun asked as her true reasons for entering were laid out in front of her by a man she had only known for a couple of minutes.

"As his father, I want only what is best for my son," Heihachi explained as he stopped walking and turned his head to see that he and Jun were now several meters away from the party guests and given time to themselves. "Being a single parent, I had to instill the ideals and gumption required to run the Zaibatsu into him single-handedly. Unfortunately, this meant that I could not dote on him like some fathers would: I had to drive him as hard as I possibly could, even if it meant him hating me. Most children would have buckled under the pressure, but Kazuya was my son: I had every bit of faith in him and his perseverance…that is, until two years ago, when he defeated me and usurped my throne."

"Why did you lose faith in him?" Jun questioned, surprised by the hint of regret in Heihachi's voice, when almost every file she read about him described him as ruthless and without remorse. "I thought you personally trained him to become the head of the Zaibatsu: is it not the dream of every father for his son to surpass him?"

"During Kazuya's childhood, some…mistakes were made," Heihachi answered with a pause, trying to find the correct words. "I won't go any further into the matter of Kazuya's younger years…except to say that Kazuya cheated to attain the power necessary to defeat me. He tampered with the darkest magic known to humankind, so that he could take what he wanted while forsaking the hard work and dedication necessary to truly be called the head of the Mishima Zaibatsu." Heihachi clenched his fist and raised it in front of him as his body crackled with his lightning-like ki. "That is why I also run through this tournament that Kazuya has set out for me, and confront him myself. I shall take back what is mine, and teach the ungrateful whelp what it means to uphold the name Mishima by ripping the evil that possesses him from his chest and crushing it before his very eyes!"

"…violence only begets more violence, Heihachi," Jun responded calmly, causing Heihachi to quickly turn his head to her, surprised and slightly incensed that someone would disagree with him so casually. "If you only use force, then Kazuya will push back with even more force. The only thing he would have learned is that he would require more power to defeat you, and tamper with evil energy even more than before. In the end, your solution will solve nothing, and only bring about more hatred…and possibly death and ruin."

"HMPH," Heihachi scoffed loudly and folded his arms as he listened to the young woman who wasn't even half his age lecture him. "If you want to eradicate evil, then you must do whatever it takes to eradicate it, even if it means hurting the one you are trying to cleanse! It is the same with a poisoned tree: you can cut its off branches, but unless you attack the root, it will only continue spewing more poison. You should do whatever it takes to stop the disease, and that includes killing the patient in the process."

"No…I refuse to believe that," Jun protested, her voice raised to indicate that even she was being incensed. "I will be the one to rid Kazuya of evil…and I will do it in the way that not only saves his soul, but allows him the chance to willingly forsake the evil spirits that surround him. As his father, I would like to request your full support in this matter. Together, I'm sure we can set things right!"

The two martial artists stared long and hard at one another, assessing each other's resolve. Heihachi planned to solve the conflict through violence, while Jun planned to solve the conflict through mutual agreement. While the goal of making Kazuya realize the error of his ways was the same, their methods put them at odds, and it would appear that they would fight over who would have the chance to confront Kazuya and try their method…until Heihachi suddenly threw his head back and let out a manly, boisterous laugh. "GAH-HAHAHAHAHAAAA…you are truly an amusing young woman, Jun Kazama! It is a shame that we've never met until now: I would have loved to have informally adopted you into the family!"

"…my intention was not to amuse you, sir," Jun responded after exhaling deeply, realizing that disaster was narrowly avoided as even she wasn't sure she could fight the fabled Heihachi Mishima. "What I said was completely serious, and I would like you to consider it."

"I shall, young lady: you may sound like a meek idealist, but your eyes tell me that your resolve is as firm as my own," Heihachi replied with a nod before he began walking back towards the party. "Good luck with the rest of the tournament: perhaps if you're lucky, you'll be given the opportunity to meet Kazuya before I do, and we'll see just which of our methods is the most effective!"

"_That tree analogy he made was apt, Jun," _the young martial artist's father whispered in her head as she slowly followed Heihachi back into the party. _"Kazuya is possessed, and sometimes as exorcists we have to do thing to the patient that would normally be considered…unsavory. You should be prepared to do what is necessary to smite evil, even if it means harming the person you are trying to save."_

_I refuse to believe that, father, _Jun thought back as she walked over to a group of people she recognized from the dossiers of possible fighters in the tournament so that she could introduce herself formally. _If the Kazamas are doctors that cure evil, then Kazuya is a patient, and it is the duty of the doctor to look after the best interests of the patients. I shall not be a cruel, uncaring doctor, for that is not the kind of person I am. Even when surrounded by evil, I will not use the ways of evil myself to achieve my own ends…because when that happens, I will stop being the solution, and become part of the problem._

------------

_Elsewhere…_

"GRRRRRRRRRYAH!"

Paul let out a strong battle cry as his fist transformed the brick he was targeting into rubble that exploded in his face. Closing his eyes as the debris bounced off of him, a thin smile formed on the American's face before he turned around and shot his fist up into the air. "Straight to the top, baby," he exclaimed out loud, though no one else was in the room that he was training in. "Straight to the top, to the title of number one!"

Although he received an invitation to the dinner social, Paul Phoenix didn't really feel like mingling with his potential opponents: there would be plenty of time to do after the tournament was over. With his next match only a day away, Paul used his identity as one of the remaining eight King of Iron Fist competitors to his advantage, scoring access to a training room that had plenty of weight machines and barbells for him to use. Best of all, there was even a large pile of bricks to test his might against, and that made Paul happy as a clam.

Wearing leaving his gloves at home, Paul not only lifted weights and topped his personal best lifting limit, but smashed bricks with his bare, unprotected hands. Now on his twentieth brick, he felt like a million bucks, and reminded himself that if he won the tournament, he would be making much more than that. "I've gotta work hard," Paul said to himself as he picked up another brick and stared at it intently. "I'm not only going to have the prize money and the title waiting for me…I'm going to have an ultra-hot, cold-as-ice superbabe as my date during my victory party!"

When Paul told Marshall about the deal he made with Nina Williams, his friend told him not to get his hopes up, and that Nina made a career about breaking men's hearts and bones. Unfortunately, this had the opposite effect on Paul's morale than what Marshall would have hoped. Nina was like a dominating mountain, feared throughout the world for how harsh she could be. Paul's approach to this, befitting of his do-or-die nature, was "the bigger the mountain, the bigger the accomplishment when someone climbs it." The plan was once Paul received the very large prize sum, he would spend a large portion on it on an extensive date with Nina. With the prize money, Paul could drown himself in pleasurable company for years, but he doubted anyone could match the sex appeal of the lady he had his eyes set on.

_First Osaka, and then Moscow…and then Paris, _Paul thought as he looked longingly at the brick, picturing Nina's face on it. _We'll go all around the world, finding the toughest goons in the seediest underground arenas…and then we'll beat the tar out of all of them to show that there's no one in this world stronger than those who compete in this tournament! Maybe I'll bring Marshall and his family along, too: I'm sure they'll be able to appreciate-_

*slam*

Hearing the door of the training room close, Paul broke out of his trance and hid the brick behind his back, afraid that someone saw him look at it like it was a supermodel. Turning his head to see who had come in, his eyes widened in surprise when he saw his old enemy Kazuya Mishima walk towards his pile of bricks wearing a white muscle shirt and a pair of jeans. Noticing that Paul was looking at him, Kazuya looked up at his face, and then down at his side to see the brick that was he was attempting (and failing) to hide, and rolled his eyes and scoffed.

"So, we meet again, Kazuya," Paul broke the silence as he held the brick up in front of him and began tossing it up and down like a ball. "It's been a while, but I haven't forgotten about that draw we had. I've been training hard for the day that we meet a-"

Paul was cut off when Kazuya lifted his leg and obliterated Paul's brick with a sharp kick just as it was hanging in the air when he tossed it upward. Taking note of the American's surprised expression, Kazuya scoffed once again before speaking. "Tch…I do not really care about that battle anymore. I have bigger things to worry about…"

Just as Kazuya picked up a new brick, Paul snatched it from the Japanese man's hand and crushed it against his forehead. Taking note of Kazuya's annoyed expression, the American smirked as he brushed the debris from his brush-like hair. "Since it looks like you just came here to work out, how about we do it together?" Paul said before picking up a brick and placing it on a nearby iron table.

"…what did you have in mind, imbecile?" Kazuya growled as he repeated Paul's action, placing a brick on the iron table on his side of the pile.

"Well, we start off one with one brick," Paul explained before standing behind the table and exhaling before lifting his land and smashing the brick on the table with a hammer punch. "Then we go on to two bricks, and then three, and so on. We stop when we're both tired! How does that sound?"

Looking pensively at the brick in front of him, Kazuya lifted his hand and crushed the brick with a swift downwards palm thrust. "I accept," he answered harshly as he and Paul picked up two more bricks to place on the table. "Don't come crying to me when you are huffing and puffing while I don't even break a sweat!"

*CRUNKLE*

Smashing two bricks simultaneously alongside Kazuya, Paul dusted off his hands as he and Kazuya reached for more bricks. "So Kazuya, what's all this stuff I hear about world domination on your part? Doesn't wanting to take over the world sound too comic-book-villain-like?

*CRUNKLE*

Hearing no response from Kazuya as they smashed three bricks, Paul shrugged before picking up four more bricks and stacking them carefully. "OK, then…what's your brother Lee up to these days? He and I had a drag race during the last tournament and he seemed like a nice enough guy…though he was pretty metro, if you know what I mean. Must have been weird growing up in a household with him, huh?"

*CRUNKLE*

Once again, Paul was given no response, and the two of them silently stacked five bricks after brushing off the debris of the previous bricks. "You know, Kazuya," Paul once again attempted to start up conversation with the tournament host as they lifted their arms for another smash. "During the last tournament, I was really looking forward to facing you. I really hope I get a chance to do so here: facing you in the finals would be a great way to settle things…"

*CRUNKLE*

Annoyed with Kazuya's silence, Paul turned his head to shout at Kazuya for ignoring him…until he saw the uncharacteristically pleasant smile on his face as he eagerly stacked more bricks. _Unbelievable…the bastard is actually having a good time! I've never seen the guy smile before in a way that didn't creep me out!, _Paul thought as he prepared to dust off his table for more bricks. "Glad to see that you're enjoying yourself, Kaz!"

Suddenly, Kazuya's smile disappeared, transforming into a snarl as his eyes widened in shock. Quickly yanking his head in Paul's direction, the Japanese warrior suddenly picked up a brick and hurled it at his training partner. Paul, using his lightning-quick reflexes, exploded the brick with a powerful straight punch. "Hey, what the hell was that!?" Paul demanded as Kazuya walked away. "Come back here, you jackass! We're not finished here!"

"I have no time for something as foolish as 'having fun,'" Kazuya replied abruptly, as if he wasn't talking to Paul at all, but someone else entirely. "You are beginning to become a nuisance: I will allow you to present your side of the argument, but I will not have you assuming control of my mind!"

"W-what the hell are you talking about?" Paul stammered, finally causing Kazuya to turn around and look him with the chilling glare that had become his trademark in the fighting world. "Who are you talking to?"

"…that's none of your business," Kazuya growled before opening the door of the training room and walking off. "Go back to smashing bricks…because if we meet in the tournament, I'll smash your face!"

Paul was silent for several minutes, even after Kazuya had long left the area. Realizing how quiet it was, Paul spoke aloud to break the silence. "That was too weird: one minute the guy is being his same old self, the next minute he's having a great time…and the minute after that he just snaps and starts talking to the voices in his head!" Paul scratched his head before picking up a fragment of one of the bricks Kazuya destroyed and pondered what had transpired. "Maybe he's being possessed…like by aliens or something like that…"


	7. R2: Heihachi vs Lee

Being his ambition was to rule the world, Kazuya Mishima capitalized on his father's previous focus on military business and multiplied its importance to the Zaibatsu one-hundred-fold. On one front, he assembled some of the best mercenaries his considerable wealth could accommodate, claiming that he wanted a "personal guard" to watch over him and protect him from the many threats on his life. On another front, he assembled a handful of some of the world's most prestigious scientists, who accepted his offers either willingly or unwillingly, to create biological monstrosities of war to act as his attack dogs. And on yet another front, he increased the Zaibatsu's funding towards military technology, building anything from small firearms to thanks to ballistic missiles so that when it came time to fire the first shot, he was ready to make that first shot a critical one to the rest of the world.

However, when it came time for the King of Iron Fist Tournament 2, Kazuya found himself much too busy to manage a such an extravagant event and focus on military power simultaneously. It would be his executive decision to give the responsibility of military business ventures to his adoptive brother Lee Chaolan. To the rest of the Zaibatsu's employees, this decision reeked of nepotism, and gave them the impression that Kazuya was favoring his family over the rest of them.

_But I know better, _Lee thought as he watched the Zaibatsu's latest tank model drive into its parking spot within the stadium-sized hangar, leaning against a helicopter and with one hand fumbling through his blue leather pants for a lighter and another in one of the pockets of his black leather vest for a cigarette. _Kazuya just wanted to give the dirty work to his little brother while he goes about having fun with the tournament. He didn't even consider my feelings in the matter, or that I had been clamoring for the responsibility to oversee a tournament…_

Once he found was he was looking for, Lee put the cigarette in his mouth and held his lighter up to its tip before creating a spark and setting the tip aflame. _Still, at least he's not leaving me in the dark entirely. With great responsibility comes great power, and putting me in charge of the military aspect of the Zaibatsu's plans for conquest brings me one step closer to my own dream: restoring honor to the Zaibatsu's name. As long as I've got sway with such a critical operation, then I can make sure Kazuya doesn't do anything too stupid, like drop a nuke in Los Angeles…_

Lee Chaolan was no stranger to being stepped on: he was left an orphan at an early age, and had to fend for himself more often than not, since the people running the orphanage that he slept in were, to say the least, not an ideal environment for a young boy. Luckily for him, his spirit and tenacity earned him an admirer in Heihachi Mishima, who had been visitingthe orphanage on a business venture. Deciding that Lee was too impressive of an individual to be wallowing away in an orphanage, Heihachi filled out the necessary paperwork to make Lee his son, and brought him home with him.

During the trip home, Lee assumed that Heihachi Mishima adopted him strictly out of the kindness of his own heart, and would be treated to a loving father who would make sure he grew up to be a strong individual. When he actually arrived at the Mishima Estate, Lee was subjected to his new brother, Kazuya, who immediately disliked him. "Take a good look at this boy, Kazuya," Heihachi told his biological son before leaving him be with his adoptive one. "If you are not careful, he just might take your spot as the next heir of the Mishima Zaibatsu!"

Early on, Lee and Kazuya were content with staying out of each other's way and focusing on their respective studies to become the next in line to lead the Mishima Zaibatsu. Heihachi brought Lee into the household for one reason: to become Kazuya's rival and drive him to become the man that Heihachi wanted him to be. Lee was smart enough to realize that any attempt to become friends with his older brother was doomed to failure with that cloud of reality hanging over their heads. Whenever they studied, trained, or even took breaks, they did so away from one another.

In a strange twist of fate, though, Lee and Kazuya discovered that they shared something in common; a tie that would bind them, however loose that tie might have been. This common ground was a dislike for their father Heihachi. To say that Heihachi was a harsh teacher would be a grand understatement: his imperialistic teachings and unorthodox training regimens would have given even the most battle-hardened warriors nightmares. The fact that he subjected young boys to this training gave both Lee and Kazuya enough reason to think that their father was a world-class jerk. Once they realized that neither of them were "daddy's favorite," Lee and Kazuya slowly began to spend more time together.

After Lee and Kazuya finished high school, Lee was sent off to America to further his academic studies while Kazuya would stay in Japan to continue putting up with Heihachi's insane training regimen. While Heihachi claimed that he separated the two brothers because he felt that Lee was more deserving of an overseas stay than Kazuya, Lee and Kazuya suspected something else fueling their father's decision. Heihachi, as maniacal as he was, was far from stupid: he could detect their animosity towards him, and how that animosity had brought them as close together as two brothers who were meant to hate one another could be. As such, he decided that it would be much easier to keep them separated for a while so he could regroup and keep himself from being attacked on both sides of his family. Before they left, Lee told Kazuya, "When I come back, let's put that old geezer in his place."

Kazuya replied with a smirk, "Only if you fight me for the right of who delivers the finisher."

Years later, Lee and Kazuya faced off in the first King of Iron Fist tournament. This tournament would decide which one of them would ascend to the Zaibatsu throne, as Heihachi told both of them that whoever won between the two of them would take his place as the Zaibatsu leader. Lee had looked forward to facing Kazuya for several reasons, including the rivalry that they shared thanks to Heihachi's manipulation of their emotions towards one another. However, the chief reason he wished to face and defeat Kazuya was because he wanted to stop Heihachi with his own hands: by all rights, Kazuya and Lee should have been friends as opposed to loose allies considering all that they had been through together, but Heihachi had prevented any real brotherly bond from forming. Heihachi was a relic from a past age, and Lee was eager to usurp his throne so that he could forge a new generation with his brother as his second-in-command.

Unfortunately for Lee, his delusions of grandeur were crushed the moment he was paired against Kazuya. Without Lee to split his attention, Heihachi focused all of his attention of Kazuya, and this made him even more embittered than he had been before. Lee knew about the incident where Kazuya was thrown into a ravine by Heihachi, and how he had nurtured that hatred for a long time, waiting for the right opportunity to take what was his. However, the final stages of Heihachi's training before the King of Iron Fist tournament what little remained of Kazuya's decency into ice. As such, he gave Lee a sound thrashing before moving on to the tournament final to face Heihachi: whatever part of Kazuya that had told Lee that they would take down Heihachi together was gone, and this new Kazuya frightened the silver-haired martial artist. Lee might have been nicknamed "the Silver-Haired Devil," but Kazuya was the true demon now.

After Kazuya defeated Heihachi and presumably killed him, Kazuya made his adoptive brother his secretary and odd job handler. While the position might have had a decent name and was one of the more powerful positions within the company, Kazuya went out of his way to make the position as demeaning as possible. Lee was someone who enjoyed living life in excitement: a thrill seeker who liked nothing more than to be challenged physically and mentally. However, being Kazuya's secretary was a decisively uninspiring and boring position. Every now and then, Lee would receive an assignment that would require some of his thinking, but those moments were few and far between.

_During our teenage years, Kazuya and I would plan out how we would rule the Zaibatsu and make everyone forget about our father, _Lee reminisced as he exhaled a cloud of smoke that floated up into the air. _Unfortunately, now that Kazuya is the leader of the Zaibatsu, he's become even worse than him. I suppose I should have seen in coming: like father, like son, after all. _Looking at his tournament identification pin on his vest, Lee clenched his fist as he remembered his new ambition. _That is why I must advance through this tournament and face Kazuya myself. I need to take control of the Zaibatsu and lead it down a path that is more like the path he and I planned out: an honorable path that will bring nobility back to the name "Mishima!"_

"Excuse me, sir," a man in black combat fatigues walked up to the daydreaming Lee, causing the silver-haired young man to look down from his cloud of smoke. Once he was sure he had Lee's attention, the man handed Lee a clipboard. "We need you to sign this, please."

"…what is it?" Lee asked, only half-interested since he had a tournament battle to attend to very shortly.

"With your signature, we will have approval to increasing funding towards building robotic soldiers to assist our invasion efforts when it comes time for our leader to call us to arms," the man explained, pointing at four of his men pushing what appeared to be a pair of mechanical legs in a cart. "That Prototype Jack that came to us allowed us to study its structure and give us the blueprints needed to create more sophisticated robots of equal or greater power and intelligence. We approached Master Kazuya with this information, but before anything could be signed, the tournament began and he gave the responsibility to you."

"Robots are amusing," Lee said with a thin smile as he took the clipboard from the man's hand and applied his signature. "Nii-san and I had this Build-A-Bot that would respond to our voice commands. He became bored with it rather quickly, but I found it quite fascinating: I even studied robotics while I was abroad. Hopefully our leader will not mind if I approve of what I hope to be a new age for the Mishima Zaibatsu, where humans are not judged by their material structure, but by what lies within their bodies."

"Well said, sir," the man replied with a smile as Lee handed the clipboard back. "I'm happy to see that you're so supportive of our robotics program."

"Still playing with toys, whelp?"

Turning his head at the sound of the gruff voice, Lee's eyes widened in horror and shock as his mouth fell agape, the cigarette falling out of it. Standing only several feet away from his was a ghost from his past, wearing a maroon hakama and black sandals, which sporting a cross-shaped scar on his chest. "Impossible," Lee whispered as the ghost folded his arms and smirked his familiar arrogant smirk. "How can you still be alive? Kazuya told me that you fell to your death!"

"Did you really think that little fall would do me in?" the ghost asked rhetorically as he lifted his fist into the air. "I am Heihachi Mishima, the true King of the Iron Fists! If not for your foolish brother using his dishonorable methods to usurp what is mine, I would still be here now, putting you over my knee and disciplining you for acting as childish as to sign a deal that would bring more stupid robots to my Zaibatsu!"

"I-it's not your Zaibatsu anymore," Lee stammered as the reality of his father being in front of him was not a figment of his imagination. While he might have sounded defiant, a wave of fear was beginning to wash over the young man. "Kazuya defeated you and took your place, just like you've always wanted. You have no one to blame but yourself for losing to him, so stop trying to make excuses!"

"Awfully brave words for someone with such shaky legs," Heihachi replied coolly, promptly Lee to look down to see that his knees were trembling. "You have every right to be afraid, though: by siding with Kazuya, you have turned your back on the man who took you from the streets and made you someone respectable. I can promise you that I will make sure that you feel the error of your decisions during our battle…'Participant Nineteen.'"

"Then…you're Participant Eleven?" Lee deduced as he stomped his foot on the group to stop the shaking. "If that is the case, then I am going to have to defeat you before you face my brother! If you came back into his life, there is no telling what he might do." Assuming his fighting stance and exhaling, Lee hardened his heart and watched Heihachi enter his stance so that the battle could begin. "For the dignity of the Mishima Zaibatsu, I will take you down here and make sure that you don't bother us ever again!"

Before either man could attack, however, Heihachi suddenly let out a loud shout, causing both Lee and the man in battle fatigues to jump in surprise. "You there," Heihachi pointed at the man in battle fatigues, who was mere inches away from the phone that was posted near where Lee was leaning back. "What do you think you're doing, making a call when a grueling battle is about to take place!?"

"I-I was going to alert Master Kazuya of your presence," the man admitted, still shaken by Heihachi's battle cry. "Being that you are his father, I thought that it would be in Master Kazuya's best interests to know that you are alive and in his tournament."

"Kazuya organized this tournament specifically so that he wouldn't know who was competing," Heihachi pointed out without leaving his fighting stance, chomping at the bit to give his treacherous adoptive son the beating of his life. "If you have any honor, you will step away from that phone and leave my participation of this tournament a secret. That's an order, soldier!"

"For someone who believes that he was cheated out of victory, you don't seem very confident if you have to rely on the element of surprise to face Kazuya," Lee said with a smirk of his own, his confidence returning upon hearing that deduction. "A wager, then: if you defeat me, we will protect your anonymity throughout the tournament. If I defeat you, then I you shall be banished from all Zaibatsu affairs, including tournaments, for the rest of your days." Abandoning the fear that lay within his heart reserved for Heihachi, Lee charged Heihachi and prepared to unleash years of familial frustration upon him. "Kazuya might throw a fit when he hears that you're still alive, but at least it'll be better than letting you go about doing what you please!"

Spitting on the ground before letting out a battle cry, Heihachi shot out his right hand to attempt a devastating Death Fist to the charging Lee's chest. To his surprise, however, Lee jumped over the fist with a spin and landed behind the former King of Iron Fists. Heihachi spun around himself to try and strike Lee with a spinning backfist, but Lee ducked under the attack only to rise back up and launch Heihachi several meters into the air with a powerful standing vertical kick: a technique he liked to call "the Blazing Kick."

Backflipping away as Heihachi landed on his feet with a loud "thoom," Lee cracked his knuckles and waited for his father to attack him. "I might use Mishima Fighting Karate, but that does not make me any less formidable an opponent, father," Lee pointed out with a thin smile as Heihachi resumed his fighting stance and looked for any opponents he could exploit. "You taught me the same ruthless lessons that you taught Kazuya: if he was able to utilize these lessons to defeat you, then so can I."

"You can keep telling yourself that, Lee," Heihachi growled as charged Lee with his fist raised. "That doesn't mean that it will come true!" Once he was within striking distance, Heihachi tossed a quick left-handed jab at Lee, who blocked accordingly. When Lee attempted to counter-attack, however, Heihachi suddenly spun around and struck the silver-haired warrior in the hip with a midsection backfist before crouching down and sending Lee airborne with a Thunder Godfist: his Demon Massacre combination.

Landing on his hands and springing back to his feet, Lee's eyes widened when he saw that Heihachi was charging at him once again, ready to deliver more damage. In retaliation, Lee leapt forward and hit his father twice in succession with twin can-can-like kicks that knocked Heihachi into the air: his Shredder combination that he had learned during his study in the United States. Using his fighting instincts to figure out how fast Heihachi would fall back down to the ground, Lee spun around upon landing from the Shredder Kicks and delivered a spinning roundhouse kick to Heihachi's falling body to propel him backwards and cause him to land flat on his back.

Heihachi, hearing Lee's rapid footsteps, rolled backwards and onto his feet to block Lee's high kick. "You call that tap a kick?" Heihachi said before spinning around to deliver a standing roundhouse kick that knocked Lee away like he had just been hit by a baseball bat. Walking over to Lee's fallen body as he lifted his torso up and shook his head, Heihachi lifted his foot and prepared to stomp on his adoptive son. "That is how you throw a kick…and this is how you deliver a stomp!"

Realizing he was in trouble, having been in the receiving end of Heihachi's Geta Stomp several times, Lee rolled to the side to avoid being stepped on like a bug and returned to his feet. When Heihachi tried to a quick headbutt to Lee's skull, the silver-haired martial artist once again used his considerable speed to duck under his father's attack and deliver quick backfist to Heihachi's sternum. With Heihachi stunned from the attack, Lee let out a ferocious shout and unleashed a high-impact spinning kick that knocked Heihachi down like he had just been hit with a tree branch.

The impact of such an attack would have dazed any normal human being for minutes, if not knock them out entirely. Unfortunately for Lee, Heihachi quickly stood back up and gently rubbed the side of his head where he had been struck. "There is some pep behind your strikes today, Lee," Heihachi pointed out, slightly amused at his adoptive son's fighting spirit. "Not bad at all for someone who was literally shaking like a scared little girl only seconds ago."

Annoyed with his father's cocky demeanor, Lee took to the air and spun around to try and deliver a leaping thrust kick to Heihachi's chest. However, Heihachi caught the Silver Sting as easily as he would catch someone outstretching their hand for a handshake. With Lee dangling in the air upside-down, Heihachi lifted his arm so that his adoptive son was at even eye level with him. "L-let me go," Lee protested, swinging his fists while hoping that he would be able to wipe the smirk off of his adoptive father's face. "I'm not your little pet project anymore! I won't stand to be treated like this!"

"If you insist," Heihachi answered before throwing his arm back and slamming Lee face-first into the ground like a throw rug. To his surprise, however, Lee rolled forward and returned to his feet before Heihachi could even lift his leg to deliver a punishing Geta Stomp. With a scoff of amusement, Heihachi resumed his fighting stance and waited for Lee to try and attack him once again. "You get up so quickly despite how you are clearly outmatched: I don't know whether to congratulate you or shake my head."

Rather than attack Heihachi head-on with the running start he attained, Lee suddenly lowered himself so that he was sliding feet-first into his father. Not expecting such an attack, Heihachi was tripped by Lee's sliding and fell flat on his back while Lee rose back to his feet and dusted himself off. Seeing his opportunity to strike, Lee jumped into the air and pounced on his father, driving his fist into Heihachi's sternum and eliciting a grunt of pain. "You may be stronger than me, but I faster," Lee commented smugly as he jumped off to allow Heihachi back onto his feet. "You cannot defeat what you cannot touch!"

Crouching back like a tiger about to pounce, Lee lifted his lift hand and arrogantly motioned for Heihachi to come at him. Angered at his son's impudence, Heihachi gathered his lightning-like ki and prepared to apply his fist to Lee's handsome face. Just when he was about to strike, Lee suddenly snapped his hand forward and bopped Heihachi in the nose with a quick snapping punch. Covering his face from the surprise attack, Heihachi let out an unintelligible curse before shooting a glare at Lee, who only smiled wider.

"Arrogant worm," Heihachi growled before once again lifting his fist to punch Lee in his face. However, in repeating this previously ineffective gesture, Heihachi received more of the same: three successive "Scatter Jabs" that did not do too much damage, but served the purpose of making Heihachi lose his focus as he began to see red. "Who do you think you are, cretin!? Do you really think that you are worthy enough to even shine my boots, much less defeat me in battle!?"

Deciding to alter his strategy, Lee lifted his leg and prepared to bring his heel down on top of Lee's head with an axe kick. However, Lee effortlessly stepped to the side to avoid the kick, still motioning for Heihachi to come at him. With a grunt of frustration, Heihachi lifted his other leg for a second axe kick attempt, but Lee dodged that just as easily and started to chuckle obnoxiously while Heihachi angrily stomped his foot on the group, leaving a fissure in the concrete floor in the process. It was only when Heihachi gathered his ki once again that Lee decided to take to the offensive once again.

With his left foot lashing out like a cobra, Lee struck Heihachi in the cheek with the sole of his shoe slapping him like an offended woman. Bringing his extended leg back across his opponent's face, Lee pushed Heihachi's head downwards with a second slapping kick and drove him face-first into the ground. "This is something you brought about on yourself, father," Lee taunted as he continued to press downward on the back of Heihachi's head, muffling whatever the elder karateka was trying to say to him. "While training in the United States, I adopted my own fighting style to combat Mishima Karate. It is the true anti-thesis to your antiquated martial art!"

Grabbing Heihachi's left wrist and pulling it upward while his foot was still planted in the back of Mishima's head, Lee ground the sole of his shoe into his father's head to further rub his face on the floor. "While you rely on brute force and sheer strength, I focus on precision strikes and finding the opponent's weaknesses." After a few seconds of humiliating Heihachi, Lee lifted his foot and delivered a high-impact stomp to the back of Heihachi's head and admired his still form. "In the end, you're an old geezer a few years removed from being in a retirement home, and I'm the next generation ready to take on the world! HAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"Arf muu white dum?"

"Hmm?" Lee tilted in his head in curiosity as he heard Heihachi said something with his face still planted on the floor. "I couldn't hear you down there, father: you'll have to pick your face up if you want me to hear what you have to say…"

"I said, 'are you quite done?'" Heihachi repeated after lifted his face off of the ground and slowly standing back up. Taking a good look at Lee's surprised expression, the former King of Iron Fists wiped his nose with his right index and middle finger and looked at the very thin smear of blood that came off of his nose. Scoffing at how Lee had damaged him, Heihachi inhaled and exhaled deeply before resuming his fighting stance and allowing himself a smile. "I am appreciative that you've finally decided to show some backbone in my prescence instead of whining and complaining…but until my identification pin has self-destructed, you should not count your victory before you achieve it!"

"D-damn," Lee cursed as he resumed his own fighting stance and narrowed his eyes before carefully advancing towards Heihachi. "I guess it will just take a little more effort to defeat-"

"SHORYA!"

Letting out his fearsome battle cry, Heihachi sent Lee flying away with a powerful leaping uppercut that left a trail of blue sparks in its wake: the fabled Omen Thunder Godfist. So much force was put into the attack that by the time Heihachi landed on his feet, Lee had just reached the zenith of his unwilling flight. By the time Lee finally landed flat on his back with a sickening thud, Heihachi had already folded his arms to watch see what Lee's next move will be.

"Like you said, you are faster than I am, so hitting you takes a little bit of extra effort," Heihachi said smugly as Lee slowly stood back up and resumed his fighting stance, carefully advancing towards Heihachi while being sure to keep his guard up so that he could defend against such attacks. What he didn't expect, however, was Heihachi suddenly hopping towards him like a bullfrog. Letting his guard down out of confusion, Lee was left open to a devastating spinning kick that sent him spiraling away like a torpedo, bouncing off the ground once before skidding to a halt.

"N-no…this cannot be," Lee whispered as he slowly stood back up and took deep, haggard breaths. "I can count how many times you've hit me on my two hands...why does it hurt so much?" Pointing an accusing finger at Heihachi before charging at a full run, Lee's voice became an enraged shriek. "WHY ARE YOU HURTING ME SO MUCH!?"

So incensed was the young man that he abandoned his once-sound strategy of hitting-and-running, and as a result was launched into the air like a rocket with Heihachi's high-arcing Demon Uppercut acting as his propulsion. Rather than let Lee fall to the ground immediately, however, Heihachi pressed on the attack by attacking his son while he was still in the air: first with a right punch, and then a quick left jab followed by a swinging backfist and one final Thunder Godfist to propel Lee further away and have him crashing down hard on his stomach. Lee attempted to get back up, clutching his midsection as he groaned in pain, but as his identification pin fizzled out in a puff of smoke, Lee wound up collapsing back down on the floor defeated.

"How...how could I be beaten?" Lee said with a pained hiss as he rolled over onto his back to see Heihachi walking towards his fallen body. "I had trained so hard this time…Master Wang even said that I was ready to confront the Mishima should the need arise…."

"'Master Wang?'" Heihachi repeated, his eyes widening in surprise at his fallen son's words. "What has he been telling you? Answer me, Lee!"

Lee chuckled softly as he sat back up, though it was obvious that doing so caused him considerable pain. "A few months ago, Master Wang approached me and offered to help me refine my unique fighting style so that it would be better suited for fighting you and Kazuya. He requested that I try to bring nobility back to the Mishima Zaibatsu, and that I should do whatever I felt was necessary to realize this mission. When it came time to get ready for the tournament, Master Wang and I decided that one of us would set thing right with the Zaibatsu."

"Then you also wish Kazuya to be taken out of power," Heihachi deduced before outstretching his hand towards his fallen son. "In that case, we should be allies. Join me, Lee: as Kazuya's second-in-command, you have vital intel that could help me insure that Kazuya's current employees do not defect when I defeat him. If you help me, then I will make sure that your punishment for betraying me the first time is minimal…"

Lee looked at Heihachi's hand, considering taking it and accepting his father's offer…but it was only for a moment. With a look of disgust on his face, Lee slapped Heihachi's hand away defiantly. "You're not going to fool me, father," he spat back as Heihachi shot him a glare that would make Death itself cower. "You're the reason Kazuya is like the way he is now! As bad as he is, I'd much rather take my chances with him than with you!"

"Why would you do something like that?" Heihachi growled as he withheld the need to slap the piss out of his defeated opponent. "You and I both know that Kazuya has lost his mind. Unchecked, he could destroy this world! Why would side which such a maniac knowing the kind of person he is!?"

"…because there is one thing he and I have in common: a blinding hatred of you," Lee answered after a pause, finally willing himself back onto his feet. "Kazuya might not be a very good brother, but he and I at least recognize each other as allies in a common war against you. As long as we both possess that hatred, then there is still a chance that he will listen to me. I would much rather take my chances with trying to help Kazuya realize that his dreams of conquest could use some modifications, than side with someone that I hate even more than him!"

"…then you had best hope that I do not win this tournament," Heihachi said with rage brimming in his voice as he clenched his fist and walked away, "because if I do, the consequences for turning down the offer I have given now will be dire indeed…"

As soon as Heihachi walked away, Lee turned to the phone on the wall and prepared to call Kazuya to warn him of the trouble that was coming…but then decided to stop what he was doing. "He'll stop him again," Lee said out loud before turning away from the phone and gripping his midsection as he went to find the nearest medic. "Nii-san will stop him just like he did last time, and then I'll be able to set things to the way they should be…I hope."


	8. R2: Paul vs Armor King

_**Author's Note: **The incident that Paul refers to when speaking about Armor King is mentioned in Armor King's Tekken 2 profile, where is hobby is listed as busting martial arts dojos, and how he had run into a bodyguard named Paul in the past. Of course, with the relevations of Tekken 6, it's hard to tell exactly WHICH Armor King did the busting!_

-----

"…and then he threw a brick at my face and stormed off, talking to himself like a crazy person," Paul explained, putting his glass down to simulate the aforementioned brick flying at his face by using his hand to roleplay as the brick. Just before the "brick" came into contact with his face, Paul lifted his other hand, balled it into a fist, and brought it into his opposite palm. "I smashed that brick with my trusty Phoenix Smasher, and I bet I could have smashed that weirdo's face in with it, too, but that bastard took off before I had the chance to do so!"

"You should consider yourself lucky you're still hear with all your teeth in place," Marshall commented, taking note of Paul's story before he put his glass to his mouth. After taking a long swig of its contents, the Chinese-American let out an exasperated sigh of relief before continuing. "Kazuya Mishima is a total lunatic: everyone keeps saying that he wants to rule the world like he's Hitler reincarnated. With all of that power he has, that might actually come true: I can just imagine that guy dropping a nuke in some big city."

"…naaaaah," Paul shook his head after thinking about Marshall's words. "Kazuya Mishima may be crazy, but he sure as hell ain't THAT crazy! I've traded fists with the guy before, and he isn't the genocide kind of guy. Hell, when he and I were smashing bricks, the guy had a real big smile on his face, kind of like what I get whenever I'm fixing my bike." Picking up his glass of beer, Paul looked at its golden color and continued speaking. "As long as Kazuya keeps himself nice and happy like that, he won't be nukin' anyone…though if he has one of those attacks, I'd hide in the bunker just in case!"

"Wait a second," Marshall turned his head to face Paul as his blonde friend took another swig of beer. "Didn't you just say Kazuya didn't have genocide in him? Which is it: is he a nuke-slinger or isn't he?"

"Well," Paul looked up at the ceiling fan thoughtfully as he lifted a finger to scratch his head. "Kazzy hears voices in his head that tell him to do some crazy stuff, like throw bricks at his sparring partner. I think there's someone pulling his strings from behind the scenes that make him the asshole he is today." As if what he said set off an epiphany, Paul quickly turned his head towards Marshall so that he was face to face with him. "Hey, man, you don't suppose he's possessed!? Maybe he's got a monster inside of him…planted there by some secret government agency so that he can be their inside man and become the rulers of the world from the shadows! Or maybe…aliens came down and put mental control devices in his brain."

While Marshall rolled his eyes at Paul's wacky deduction, the blonde man's eccentric ramblings were ignored within the moderately-lit pub. Earlier that day, Paul received a notification via his identification pin that his next match would be scheduled at a local pub. Feeling the need to have a drink anyway, Paul woke up his friend Marshall and the two of them drove to the designated location. While the pub chosen was selected to be the location of a prestigious tournament, the pub itself was not exactly a four-star establishment. As soon as Paul opened the entrance to it, the smell of cigarette smoke and weed wafted out, alerting the two foreigners that it wasn't very different from the pubs they frequented back home in the States.

While that might have been a turn-off to some people, including Marshall, Paul welcomed the dingy atmosphere with open arms. Paul was a renowned street fighter who fought wherever there were strong opponents, even if the venue was not of the highest quality. Over the course of his fighting career that had spanned across the world, Paul had fought in back alleys, farms, junkyards, office buildings, rooftops, basements, bullfighting arenas, football stadiums, and coliseums. He had fought in bars and pubs more times than he could count, so one more bar fight didn't frighten him a bit.

Looking at his watch to see how much time he had left until his opponent was scheduled to come, Paul finished off his beer and stood up out of his seat to begin his stretching. Deciding that his usual gi would get soiled in the bar, as he wanted to use it again for the semifinal round, Paul decided to wear his black leather jacket and pants with brown boots. While this pub had no specific dress code, he and Marshall had gone out drinking together many times and realized that certain bars had "courtesy codes." If someone had shown up to the bar wearing a tuxedo, then that person would have been asking for trouble. If someone had shown up to the bar wearing what Paul or Marshall (who came wearing a white t-shirt, a brown cap, and beige jeans) had been wearing, then they were one of the boys and treated as such.

"Hey, changing the subject away from that schizo nutjob," Paul said as he put his hands on the ground and his feet in the air so that he was standing on his head. "How come you're not competing in the tournament anymore? Didn't you want to beat the piss out of that guy who trashed your dojo?"

"I was lucky enough to face him in the first round," Marshall explained as Paul pushed himself up and down while still upside-down: a training technique he saw his idol perform in a video tape and one that he adopted for his own regime. "His name is Baek Doo San: he's a former Tae Kwon Do champion and teacher from South Korea. He trashed my dojo because Kazuya Mishima was blackmailing him for something that happened in his past. He wouldn't tell me what Kazuya had on him, though, even after I beat him."

"That's a crappy excuse to be a jerk," Paul commented before springing back to his feet and walking over to a nearby wall to begin the next stage of his stretching. "If Kazzy was being a prick and threatening to let the rats out of that guy's closet, he should have just challenged him to a fight to keep his secrets safe…or better yet, he should have just let Kazuya tell him his secrets! The truth is going to show itself sometime, right? Might as well do it sooner rather than later!"

"It got weirder during the actual fight," the martial artist explained while Paul stretched his calves. "I wound up bloodying his nose with a kick, and when he saw the blood drip down onto his hand, he just freaked out!" Flailing his arms wildly to give emphasis to the situation, Marshall continued. "He just suddenly started freaking out with his arms going everywhere, saying 'I'm sorry, father,' over and over again. Needless to say, he was much too busy having a mental attack to defend himself properly: I wound up beating him and knocking him out cold."

"Atta boy," Paul said with a smile, giving Marshall thumbs-up without breaking his gaze with the wall. "Still, why didn't you continue on? I don't see any big scrapes or broken bones on you: you could have been my opponent in this round and we could have had a good time!"

"I might be fine now, but that guy knew his stuff," Marshall explained, rubbing the back of his head as if he was embarrassed. "I dragged by tired body over to the doctor and he said that I would need a day's rest to assess whether or not I was cleared to compete. By the time I learned that I was fine, the deadline for winners to report had passed and I was considered a dropout…I guess that's just the way things-" Marshall's sentence was cut short by the sound of angry footsteps, with the source of those footsteps marching over in Paul's direction. Taking note of the intimidating figure's empty beer bottle that he was holding in hand direction over his friend's head, Marshall attempted to issue a warning. "Hey, Paul, look out!"

*KRSH*

*THUMP*

--------------

"OW!"

Exclaiming his pain, Paul rubbed the back of his head. The last thing he remembered was Marshall about to say something to him, and then the familiar feeling of glass smashing against his skull. "I must've blacked out after that, because I don't remember a damn thing after that," Paul grumbled as he stood back up and turned away from the wall that he had been stretching to so that he could face his attacker. "OK, jackass: I don't know why you did that, but you sure as hell picked the wrong guy to mess…BUH!?"

When Paul turned around, he was shocked to discover that he was no longer in the dingy bar that he was once in. Instead, the bar was now bright and colorful, with rainbows painted on the walls and doors like they would for a little girl's room. It no longer reeked of alcohol and urine, but of root beer and cotton candy, like a carnival would have. Of course, that was the least of Paul's concerns: at least rainbows and root beer smells were something he was accustomed to. It was the most important feature that gave Paul reason to sweat.

Instead of people occupying the tables, there were bears wearing parodies of human clothing! There were three black bears sitting at a table playing poker, a stack of chips set in front of each bear. A polar bear was throwing darts at a dartboard, wearing very wide jean shorts and a blue t-shirt. Behind the bar counter was a panda bear cleaning a beer glass with a rag, while wearing a black tuxedo. "Where the heck am I?" Paul said out loud, trying to wrap his brain around what had transpired. "What is this crazy place!? What kind of hell have I stumbled into!?"

Hearing what the only human in the room said, all of the bears turned to Paul and stared at him curiously. After a couple of seconds of nothing happening, the bears then began to pound their paws against their tables, growling in unison like performing a strange chant. "W-what's going on?" Paul asked, his eyes wide with confusion and horror he slowly backed away. "Stop that! You're freaking me out here!"

Rather than bump into the wall that he had been facing when the nightmare began, Paul felt something firm and fuzzy press against his back. Taking a big gulp, the martial artist turned around and dropped his jaw at what he saw: his arch-nemesis Kuma, towering over him like he would tower over an eleven-year-old. "T-this is your fault, isn't it?" Paul sputtered as he jumped back when Kuma tried to take a bite out of his hair. "You dragged me here in front of your friends so you could beat me!"

With rabid foam coming out of his jaws and his eyes glowing red, Kuma lifted his paw in preparation for a fatal swipe. Letting his fighting instincts take over, Paul ducked under the swipe and plunged his fist into Kuma's chest with a mighty Phoenix Smasher. Paul didn't know how well he could do with so many bears surrounding him, but he decided that if he was going to go down, he was at least going to take someone with him. "Bring it on, boobala! I've got your knuckle sandwich right…right…uh-oh."

Normally, his Phoenix Smasher would have sent Kuma flying backwards, but instead his fist remained lodged within the bear's chest. At first, Paul thought that he had impaled his enemy, but he immediately noticed that his fist didn't feel wet at all. What he did notice, however, was Kuma rapidly swelling like a balloon being filled with helium. Pulling his fist back in hopes of stopping the swelling, Paul wound up hoping in vain as Kuma only began swelling faster: within second, he was a fuzzy sphere with pathetic stubs of paws and feet and a small head. "Oh crap…he's gonna blow!"

Before Paul could even duck for cover, Kuma burst in a flash of light. To the good fortune of everyone in the room, there was no blood or entrails from the explosion: instead, there was colorful confetti that smelled like the alcohol that Paul expected to smell in a pub…and something else. Standing in Kuma's place was a well-endowed blonde female wearing nothing but a brown fuzzy bikini, matching fingerless gloves, and a bear hat that Paul had seen an elementary school kid wear while he was driving to the pub. "N…Nina?" Paul stammered as the familiar woman sultrily walked up to him, her beautiful face sporting a familiar icy glare. "What the hell is happening? Why are you wearing that-"

"Why are you so full of shite?"

"…what? What are you talking a-BAGH!"

Paul's question was cut short by Nina suddenly lifting her leg and giving him a swift punt in the groin. With the other bears in the room throwing their arms up in approval, Paul crumpled to the ground gripping his groin. "Why are you so full of shite?" Nina repeated as she fell to the floor so that she was right next to Paul. Trapping his right arm between her legs so that he couldn't escape, Nina pulled back on Paul's head as hard as she could, causing him considerable neck pain. "Wake up, you idiot! Wake up or say that you're full of shite!"

-------

"I AM NOT FULL OF SHITE!"

Quickly sitting up with his eyes wide open, Paul awakened from his knockout slumber with his breath haggard. When he did so, he looked around the room and breathed a sigh of relief: there were no rainbows, no root beer smells, and above all, no bears. In its stead was his friend Marshall kneeling down next to him at his left, the bartender at his right…and a tall, muscular figure wearing silver armor with matching boots and gauntlets, black leather pants, and an ebony jaguar mask with one of the eyes red and scarred. "Hey…I remember that guy," Paul said groggily as he slowly stood back up and rubbed the back of his head. "That's the mysterious pro wrestling bad guy, Armor King. I remember facing that joker when I was working as a dojo bodyguard. What's he doing here?"

"He's your opponent in this round," Marshall explained, pointing to the broken beer bottle that was still in Armor King's hand. "He saw you in the pub, and decided that he would try to get an easy win by bashing you over the head with a beer bottle and knocking you out. You woke up just in time: another two minutes, and you would have been disqualified and he would have moved on to the semifinals!"

"Well, that's just too bad for him," Paul growled before spitting out a wad of saliva on the floor and assuming his fighting stance, completely no-selling the effects of being bashed in the head with hard glass. "That trick might have worked for anyone else, but ol' Paul Phoenix is tougher than that! I break bricks over my head in training: the only reason that beer bottle knocked me out was because it caught me off-guard!"

"Speaking of which, what were you dreaming about?" Marshall asked curiosity as he and the bartender stepped away from Paul while Armor King tossed his broken bottle to the side and assumed his own fighting stance. "You kept mumbling to yourself while you were out, and I even heard you say 'Nina' before you woke up… did she do anything kinky to you?"

"Trust me, Marshall: you don't want to know," Paul shook his head before turning back towards Armor King. "OK, wrestling guy! I've fought you before, so I know that I don't believe in wrestling being fake. But if you had to take me down with a beer bottle, then that means that you've been slacking off! I'll take your cowardly ass down and keep you down for the ten-count!"

As if insulted by Paul's remark, Armor King suddenly charged towards Paul with violent intent. Just before he could enter Paul's striking distance, however, the masked wrestler suddenly left his feet and lunged towards the American while turning. As a result, Armor King delivered a flying elbow smash that sent Paul sprawling backwards. Springing back to his feet, Armor King turned around to see his opponent spring to his own feet and rub his jaw where the elbow made contact.

After a moment of staredown, Armor King once again charged at Paul and sprung forward for another elbow smash. However, this time his opponent was wise enough to step to the side let Armor King fly past him and land on his back. Realizing that his attack had failed, Armor King quickly tried to return to his feet, but Paul put him right back down in his back with a pushing boot to his fallen adversary, followed by a downwards punch that further added damage to the offensive rush.

Allowing Armor King to stand back up, Paul gave his adversary an arrogant smirk before motioning towards him with his finger. What he didn't expect to happen was Armor King to suddenly grab onto his finger and pull back on it until he yelped in pain. Yanking his hand away and moving his targeted finger around to make sure it wasn't broken, Paul was left open to a snapping hook kick to his face that knocked him over like a bowling pin. When Paul returned to his feet, his face turned red upon seeing Armor King openly mock him by repeating the finger gesture he had been trying to do earlier.

"Real funny guy, huh," Paul said before he rubbed his nose and charged Armor King with his fist raised. "By the end of this fight, I'll be the one laughin'!" Once he was within striking distance, Paul directed his fist at Armor King's masked face, but the wrestler caught the fist quite easily. However, this actually made Paul smile, as it gave him the opportunity to bounce his opposite fist off of Armor King's stomach. Even though his armor plating, Armor King could feel the impact of the blow and it caused him to recoil while Paul pulled his other fist back and assumed his fighting stance.

Feeling lucky, Paul decided to go for broke and attack Armor King with his powerful Phoenix Smasher. However, Armor King regained his composure fast enough to sidestep the attack and deliver a punishing horizontal kick to Paul's hip. Paul immediately pulled his fist back and rubbed where the kick had connected, and in turn left himself open to Armor King's own punch: a high straight punch, aptly named "the Straight Arrow," that struck Paul right between his eyes and sent him sliding across the floor.

Using the sliding momentum to roll back onto his feet, Paul stood back up and saw Armor King once again charging at him. However, rather than sidestep and move out of the way of Armor King's mad rush, Paul instead thrust his right elbow forward and stopped the wrestler dead in his tracks with a blow to his sternum. With Armor King stunned from the attack, Paul straightened himself out and pumped his right arm backwards and his left arm forwards to send Armor King sprawling backwards with a Gut Buster.

Armor King was slower to get back into fighting position this time, turning his back towards Paul as if to catch his breath. "There aren't any time-outs here, bub," Paul shouted as he ran towards Armor King as fast as he could with the intention of running over him like a running back heading for the goal line. "If you can't take the heat, stay out of the kitchen!" Just as Paul was about to collide with Armor King, however, the wrestler's leg shot backwards at hit the American squarely in the crotch. Paul folded like an accordion and left himself open to a elbow drop right on the back of his head.

Rather than let Paul return to his feet, Armor King instead crouched down and mounted Paul from behind. As Paul turned his head to see what his opponent was about to do, the wrestler's stiff fists came raining down upon the back of his skull and neck. Unable to defend himself in such a disadvantageous position, Paul wound up being punched five times before Armor King stood back up and watched as Paul returned his feet while rubbing the back of his head.

When Armor King lifted his arm in preparation for a clothesline, Paul suddenly crouched down and tackled the wrestler to the floor and mounted him. Delivering a trio of mounted punches to his adversary, Paul suddenly dismounted Armor King only to place the wrestler in an armbar. Pulling back as hard as he could, the judo fighter waited for his opponent to let out a shout of pain so that he could know that his attack was effective, but all he heard was an inhuman growl of anger. Paul lifted his head in curiosity, but in doing so loosened his armbar enough for Armor King to break out and bring his gauntlet down across Paul's sternum before standing back up.

Before Paul could do the same, Armor King wrapped his arms around Paul's legs. After making sure he had the limbs secure and before Paul could realize what was about to happen, Armor King fell over backwards and catapulted Paul over his head and behind him with a Flapjack. However, Paul wound up rolling with the momentum and stood right back up with no signs of damage whatsoever. "Yeah, nice try," Paul said half-heartedly as he resumed his fighting stance and waited for Armor King to get back up so he could knock him right back down with a Rubber Band Fist. "You tried that the last time we met and it wound up breaking my nose. I'm not about to fall for it again!"

Armor King sprang back to his feet and waited for Paul to once again attempt a Phoenix Smasher. Just before Paul could full outstretch his fist, Armor King suddenly rammed his shoulder into the judo fighter and sent him sliding across the floor. Quickly running over to Paul's fallen body as he groaned in pain, Armor King once again wrapped his arms around Paul's legs. This time, Paul was unable to properly defend against the flapjack, and he landed flat on his face. "Oyyyyy," he groaned as he stood back up and rubbed his nose. Luckily for him, he was not bleeding and he let out a sigh of relief.

Relief soon turned to anger, however, when Armor King delivered a dashing Shadow Lariat to the American. Being able to put his arms up just in time, Paul successfully caught the arm and pulled on it as hard as he could to drag Armor King down into his stomach. Still keeping hold of the arm so Armor King couldn't get away, Paul lifted his other hand and drove it into the side of Armor King's head. When Armor King went limp, Paul jumped backwards and kept his fighting stance so that Armor King could get back up…if he wasn't already defeated.

To the wrestler's credit, Armor King slowly stood back up and shook his head from the dizziness that such a blow would induce. "Well, at least you're as tough as I remember you," Paul commented as Armor King advanced towards him, albeit more carefully than he had been. "Come on, jaguar man: let's dance until one of us can't dance no more!"

Rather than attack Paul with another strike, Armor King instead opted to grab onto Paul's head and tuck it under his shoulder to put the fighter in a headlock. Once Paul was considered secure enough for Armor King's liking, the wrestler lifted Paul into the air until he was completely vertical and upside-down. Normally, this would lead to a vertical suplex, but Armor King had something else in mind. Tossing Paul into the air so that he spun 180 degrees, Armor King jumped up and caught Paul before driving his head into the hard floor with a Steiner Screwdriver. The impact was so fierce that the glasses at the bar table rattled and everyone who had been watching the fight winced in pain.

In an act of either toughness or foolishness, Paul stood right back up to show that Armor King didn't break his neck with such a dangerous move. However, he stumbled a bit to indicate that he was indeed dazed, and this allowed Armor King to finally use a successful Shadow Lariat that had such impact, that Paul actually flipped over before falling flat on his face like he had just been hit with a tree branch while speeding on his motorcycle. "Come on, Paul," Marshall attempted to rally on his friend's behalf as Armor King grabbed onto Paul's hair and pulled him back up onto his feet. "Don't let this guy push you around!"

Swinging blindly as he tried to see through the stars and dizziness that was overtaking him, Paul somehow managed to knock Armor King to the side with a wild horizontal punch he appropriately dubbed the Wrecking Ball. However, any advantage Paul might had from the attack quickly vanished as he swayed back and forth, seemingly unable to regain his bearings after being dropped his head and subjected to the vicious lariat in succession. Having three glasses of beer before the fight probably did not help matters much.

Walking up to the stumbling Paul and holding onto his forehead, Armor King watched as Paul groggily swung his fists at him while the wrestler held him back, to a chorus of boos from the onlookers watching. After lifting his middle finger to the fans, the masked wrestler spun around behind Paul and wrapped his left arm around his neck to place him in a Choke Sleeper. Paul's instincts told him that he was in trouble, but he was unable to put up as much of a struggle as he could have if he were not so dizzy.

_Where the hell am I?, _Paul managed to think as he tried his hardest to regain his composure while Armor King strangled the life out of him. _I can't think straight, I can't see straight, and I can't hear straight…it's like that one metal song that talks about a guy who was caught in a landmine and lost all sense of feeling in his body._

"_GRRROWL GRRR!"_

"_If we meet in the tournament, I'll smash your face!"_

"_Wake up or say you're full of shite!"_

With the vision and voices of his three rivals Kuma, Kazuya, and Nina suddenly rushing to him, Paul's eyes shot open as he found his second wind. _That's right, I can't go down here, _Paul reminded himself as he drove the back of his elbow into Armor King's stomach, causing him to loosen his Sleeper Hold and allow Paul to take a deep whiff of air. _I have to win this tournament: if I don't then, all of my battles will have been for nothing! I won't only have let myself down, but everyone I've beaten along the way! _Lifting Armor King's arm over his head, Paul reared back before ramming his shoulder into the wrestler and sending him sliding all the way across the room to crash into a table leg. _This guy is even tougher than I remember…so I'm going to have to use a technique I've never used outside of training! _

With his entire body crackling with his lemon-yellow ki, Paul reared back and concentrated all of his energy into his right fist. When Armor King stood back up, Paul was still charging his energy, and the wrestler decided that it was time to go in for the kill. After spewing green mist from his mouth, Armor King let out another ferocious growl and made a mad dash for Paul, preparing to run through him like a freight train and beat the tar out of whatever's left.

Unfortunately for Armor King, Paul completed charging his ultimate attack before he could take him down.

Unleashing all of his concentrated energy into one final punch, Paul's fist collided with Armor King's chest with such force, that he completely obliterated the body armor that the wrestler was wearing, exposing his dark-skinned chest for the rest of the pub to see as he flew backwards and crashed through the bathroom door in a shower of wood and splinters. Upon seeing some familiar smoke come from the pin that was attached to Armor King's pants, Paul exhaled deeply before thrusting his elbow out and letting out a kiai. "Osu!"

"T-that was amazing…that was awesome, Paul," Marshall exclaimed as he ran over to his friend and give him a slap on the shoulder, to which Paul immediately let out a shout of pain. "I guess my words of encouragement actually got through! I've never seen you do that move before, either!"

"Y-yeah," Paul said as he breathed a sigh of relief. "I figured out a way to pour some extra ki into a Phoenix Smasher to make it something potent. I think I'm going to call it the Burning Death Fist." Looking at his still-clenched fist, the American smiled weakly. "Yeah, the Burning Death Fist…and because of it, I'm off to the semifinal round. I'm certain that Kazuya is going to be there waiting for me, too!"

"I'm sure he will," Marshall said with a smile before slinging Paul's arm over his shoulder and helping his sparring partner walk towards the exit. "Come on, Paul: I'll give you a ride back to the hotel on your bike. We can have a victory celebration tonight after you get a nice long rest."

Turning his head to see if Armor King had regained consciousness, Paul blinked when he saw not one, but two warriors wearing black jaguar masks stepping out of the bathroom. One of them was wearing the wounds of war, with his body armor shattered, and the other one looked as fresh as a daisy, with his body armor still completely intact. "…I must be hung over worse than I thought," Paul muttered before turning away from his defeated foe being helped up by what he hoped to be an imaginary copy. "I'm seeing double…"


	9. R2: Kazuya vs King

"…I see...I am sorry to hear that," King said over the phone, listening to what his old rival had to say through tired breaths. "I had hoped that we would face each other in the final round and settle our feud. It would seem that time will have to wait until the next tournament."

With his sea blue button-up shirt, red tie, and white suspenders, the famous pro wrestler sporting the golden jaguar mask looked more prepared to visit a church than engage in a bloody fistfight. However, fate decided that King would perform both tasks at the same time: earlier that day, the voice from his identification pin told him that his next fight would be scheduled at a local church. As a man of faith, King had been visiting churches daily from the moment the King of Iron Fist Tournament 2 began. After all, the amount of harm he delivered to his opponents certainly warranted "sinful" levels, even if it was for a just cause of raising money for his orphanage back home in Mexico.

_No…that's not the only reason why I am here, _King reminded himself as he listened to his rival's voice over the phone. _I came here to avenge my pride and prove to myself that I have regained the fighting spirit that I lost after the previous tournament. I have let so many people down these past two years, succumbing to my inner demons and frittering valuable money on detrimental addictions. Winning this tournament is but one of the things I will have to do to regain the trust of my fans._

In his past, King was an orphan left to fend for himself on the harsh dirt streets of Mexico. Had he been left unattended, King had no doubt in his mind that he would probably be a homeless, hungry, and completely hopeless bum more concerned about findng food and shelter than worrying about other people. Luckily for him, fate decided to give the young boy some early intervention, as he found himself adopted by a kind and charitable man who brought him to his orphanage.

There were many orphanages in the world that had a reputation for being inhospitable and harsh despite how the very purpose of an orphanage was to provide children with a safe and productive living environment that they cannot have thanks to their biological parents being unavailable to nurture them. The orphanage that King was raised in, however, was closer to the ideal environment that all orphanages hoped to have. The caretakers were infinitely kind, and the food was adequate enough to sustain the inhabitants with the vitamins and nutrients required for growing children. Thanks to the combination of these and several other factors, King grew up to be an exceedingly big and strong young man.

King grew up to be so big and strong, in fact, that once he became of working age, he decided to make a career out of his power. During one of his daily visits to the local gym, he was approached by a well-chiseled figure wearing a wrestling mask. The young man identified the man as one of the "luchadores" that Mexico was famous for, and allowed the wrestler to exchange pleasantries with him. After the small talk was out of the way, the luchadore told the young man that his wrestling promoter was looking for new talent to raise and train for its promotion, and luchadore believed the young man had the body type necessary to become a big star. "If not for yourself, do it for your orphanage," the luchadore told the youth who would become King as he handed him his calling card. "Pro wrestling is a profitable business for those who have the guts and endurance."

King was at an age where he was becoming aware of how expensive it was to support so many orphans and still maintain a sufficient living environment, so he decided to take the luchadore up on his offer and help repay the orphanage for everything that they had done for him. Training to become a professional wrestler was more excruciating than he had ever dreamed, and there were many times when he thought that he just wasn't cut out for the job, but King reminded himself that he wasn't doing this just for himself, but for the orphanage. After six weeks of physical and mental training, studying tapes of the wrestlers that had come before him and learning the subtle art of telling a story with one's body as well as with one's mouth, the young man that had once been an orphan child was ready to step into the ring in front of a few dozen fans with his fledging abilities.

The luchadore that had approached the young man wasn't kidding when he said professional wrestling was a profitable venture. The former orphan was blessed with great size and even greater agility, using a combination of great power and deft wrestling capability as well as undeniable charisma thanks to his sympathetic "rags-to-riches" background. The promoter recognized this, and coaxed the fledging wrestler into coming up with a permanent name and gimmick so that he could become even more marketable. Remembering what his favorite animal was, the young wrestler decided to sport a golden jaguar mask and call himself "King."

Not long after "King" was unveiled, the promoter decided to capitalize on his new star's success by devising a similar gimmick: someone who would become King's nemesis for years to come. Sporting a black jaguar mask and wearing considerably darker colors than his "gentler" adversary, the wrestler called "Armor King" was ready to begin what was certain to be an amazing rivalry with King. Unfortunately, tragedy struck when King accidentally crushed Armor King's left eye, turning what was supposed to be a storyline rivalry into a legitimate one. Even though King apologized many times when it came time to go back in the locker room, Armor King left the promotion in a rage and faded from the spotlight.

Years later, King had become an international superstar, and was making more money than he ever fathomed. He had become so well-respected, in fact, that the mighty Mishima Zaibatsu took notice of his skills and invited him to the inaugural King of Iron Fist Tournament, with the promise of the winner becoming a certified billionaire. Realizing that the orphanage would greatly benefit from such a reward, King entered the tournament and became one of the final seventeen competitors. Included in those final seventeen competitors, however, was his old rival Armor King.

Whereas King had become the messiah of the professional wrestling world, Armor King had become the dark champion of the underground wrestling circuit, where there were no rules to keep the wrestlers from brutalizing one another. Using his newer, more brutal fighting style, Armor King gave the man who took his eye all that he could handle and more. King had so much trouble with Armor King, in fact, that they wound up fighting to a draw and thus guaranteeing that neither of them would be advancing through the tournament.

Disappointed with his loss, King spent the next two years wallowing in defeat. The orphans that had once looked up to King no longer wanted anything to do with him, seeing the shell of a man he had become. His matches and ring work became anywhere from slightly-above-average to downright embarrassing: a far cry from the work ethic that had made him a hero. He had thought that he had buried the guilt he felt from crushing Armor King's eye, but seeing how embittered his rival had become dragged him down quite a bit.

Two years after the loss, Armor King returned to Mexico to find King, and was shocked to see that the man that had left him half-blind had become a mere wino. Enraged, Armor King forcefully dragged King back to the orphanage, right in front of the orphans that he was supposed to be devoting his life to. The shock of seeing the sad faces of the children caused King to let out a cry of anguish, realizing what kind of bum he had become. "Please forgive me," King said through sobs as he broke down on the floor. "Please, tell me…what can I do to repent for my sins?"

The answer to that, according to Armor King, was to compete in the next King of Iron Fist Tournament. If King were to compete and prove to himself and the world that he could still hang with the best, then his title of "King" could be restored. With the memory of the horrified faces of his orphans fueling him, King beat himself back into top physical condition and entered the tournament. This time, he had an ally in Armor King, and he was sure that together they could advance through the tournament and prove to the world that professional wrestling was a force to be reckoned with.

Unfortunately, reality would have something to say about that. The Mexican grappler was disappointed to learn that Armor King had been eliminated in the second round, and King would now have to go through the remainder of the tournament alone. Making it to the final eight was a feat in and of itself, but King had hoped that the final round would consist of himself and his rival. Once there, they would have fought until only one of them was left standing, and the other would respectfully bow their knee to the one true king of wrestling. Now, it was all up to King to keep the honor of wrestling intact.

After King said farewell to his rival and hung up the phone, the wrestler let out a sigh as he looked at the colorful painted glass windows surrounding the church. Fearing the safety of anyone who wished to pray, King arranged with the local minister to keep the building off-limits until his fight was over. The church was now empty with the exception of himself, and the silence was almost haunting. "I might as well pray for strength while I'm here," King said out loud as he walked away from the phone mounted on the wall and towards the large golden cross at the end of the room.

Kneeling down in front of the cross, King began to mutter a Latin prayer while holding the small cross that was dangling around his neck. As a man of the faith, prayer was a daily part of the wrestler's life. He would pray before all of his fights, he was pray before he would eat, and he would even pray before he went t bed. If not for his career as a professional wrestler being so demanding and his lust for performing being so great, King might have made a living being a priest himself.

Lifting his head at the conclusion of his prayer, King let out a gasp at what he saw sitting on the altar: a bottle of wine sitting next to a large candle on a small table. "N-n-no," King said as his body began to shake uncontrollably, realizing that his alcohol addiction was beginning to take hold once again. "I can enjoy myself after I win this fight, and that wine is sacred. I can't…can't…can't control myself!"

---------

Quickly standing up and snatching the bottle of wine from the table, King forcefully yanked the cork off and chugged down its contents like a man possessed. Even though Armor King worked with him to curb his alcohol addictions, King had not yet acquired the strength to completely forsake the demon within the bottle. By sheer force of will, King pulled the bottle from his mouth, causing droplets of wine to leave small stains on his jaguar mask. "I am so weak," King exclaimed as he put the wine back on the table and fell to his knees. "Lord almighty, please forgive me. I have sinned within the sanctity of Your house!"

"If you are looking for strength, then you should not beg someone else to give it to you."

Surprised at the sound of the voice coming behind him, King turned around to see a familiar Japanese young man wearing a purple tuxedo, standing at the door of the church. "I know you," King whispered as he stood back up and stepped down from the altar. "You are Kazuya Mishima, the man holding this tournament. What is someone as evil as you doing in this holy place?"

"I am Participant Eighteen…and if you are Participant Six, that means that I am your opponent in this round," Kazuya replied with a scowl as King walked towards him while swinging his arms back and forth to get the blood flowing in them. "To be honest, though, I wouldn't exactly call this place holy if someone who claims to be a man of the church is drinking wine like he was at the local tavern. If I knew that the church allowed such things, I might have brought some champagne along with me and shared a drink with the minister."

"Be silent, you fiend," King spat back as he came within several steps of Kazuya and stopped walking so that he could assume his fighting stance and wait for Kazuya to do the same. "Indulging in one's selfish desires in a church is a sin of the highest order! I would sooner see you dead than let you soil this House of God with your filthy ways. As God's warrior, I shall put an end to your evil here and now!"

"Then I suppose you were drinking that wine out of religious faith?" Kazuya retorted, an arrogant smirk forming on his face as he folded his arms. "There is no shame in admitting that you have demons, luchadore. In fact, rather than try and hide them away like a coward, you should wear your demons on a sleeve. I have done things that many people would consider 'evil' and 'vile,' but I do not try and hide these deeds. In fact, I often find myself talking to these demons that live within me: you should consider doing the same."

"That is not the way I do things," King shot back. "A good man ignores the sinful temptations that demons suggest. If we simply give in to our desires, than that makes us no better than animals! In order to be considered a human being, a good man must withhold these evil temptations, and teach others how to do the same. My alcohol addiction is inexcusable, and that is why after I defeat you and move on, I will confess my sin to the minister here and repent accordingly."

"Tch…what foolish ideology," Kazuya said with a scoff before he assumed his own fighting stance. "To ignore one's selfish desires is to ignore one's self entirely. If you are comfortable with being a conformist sheep, living your life by how other people judge you, then go ahead and do so….but I will not accept your thoughtless preaching, telling me that I am somehow flawed. After I defeat you, I will show you how foolish your path really is!"

Once their buttons flashed to indicate that battle had become, Kazuya and King charged one another with their fists raised. Thanks to King being significantly taller than Kazuya, his reach was longer and allowed him to enter striking distance first. The wrestler lashed out at Kazuya with a quick left cross that hit the Zaibatsu leader right in the side of his head. Stunned from the attack, Kazuya put his hand to the side of his head and left himself open to an equally-stunning throat thrust that caused him to stumble backwards in surprise.

King lifted his right arm in preparation for a clothesline, but Kazuya recovered from the throat thrust quicker than the wrestler expected. The Cold-Blooded Prince effortlessly ducked under the clothesline and delivered an electrifying cross to King's ribs. With his body crackling with energy not his own, King gripped his stomach and left himself open to a Soul Thrust that knocked him off of his feet and onto the ground. Once his body finally stopped crackling with energy, King sprung back to his feet and cracked his neck and knuckles: now that the initial exchange of blows was over, King knew for sure that he was in for a tough fight.

"If you like, we can put the fight on hold so that you can have another swig of wine," Kazuya said with a cruel grin, watching King shake with anger from his words. "As the tournament head, I can arrange for a brief time-out between the fight. I won't think any less of you than I do now if you accept."

"Arrogant scum," King growled as he dashed towards Kazuya and knocked him down with a running shoulder tackle. "I will not have you make a fool of me in this holy place!" Not even willing to give his opponent respite as he hit the ground, King wrapped his arms around Kazuya's legs and began swinging him around and around, effectively lifting Kazuya off the ground in the process. After the seventh revolution, King suddenly let go of Kazuya and sent him crashing down onto the hard floor with a Giant Swing.

Kazuya quickly stood back up and stumbled a bit from the dizziness that the spinning gave him, but he recovered fast enough to block King's forward Toll Kick and counter with a kick of his own: a standing roundhouse that sent King spiraling away like a top and forced him to land flat on his back. Running over to King just as he was about to stand back up, Kazuya jumped into the air and pounced on King, plunging his fist into the wrestler's stomach.

Stepping off of his opponent, Kazuya grabbed King by the neck and lifted him off of the ground. Unfortunately for him, King came to rather quickly and twisted Kazuya's arm until the Zaibatsu leader let go of him. Keeping hold on his opponent's arm, King forced Kazuya onto his stomach and sat on his back. Once there, he pulled back on Kazuya's arm as hard as he could to place his opponent in a textbook Fujiwara armbar. Had this been a professional wrestling match, King's opponent would have tapped out in defeat, but there were no tapouts accepted in the King of Iron Fist tournament. As such, King continued to pull back until Kazuya either passed out from the pain, or he broke the arm entirely.

Sadly for King, neither of these scenarios reflected reality. Using power and strength that belied his body type, Kazuya pulled his arm free of King's hold and pushed himself off the ground, prompting King to get off of his back and jump backwards as he stood back up. "Interesting counter-attack," Kazuya said as he moved his arm around and winced from the pain came from doing so. "Had you held on any longer, you might have done some serious harm. Not bad for someone who makes a living entertaining people over rendering them unconscious."

"Do not underestimate the hard work and dedication involved in professional wrestling," the sport's crowned King replied as he blocked Kazuya's snapping vertical kick. "The moves I have learned took years to master, and even longer to figure out how I could do them without causing terrible pain to my opponent. Now that I am outside of the ring, I no longer have to hold back." Countering with a swift elbow that his opponent blocked, as well, King attempted a second elbow that caused Kazuya to jump back. "I shall beat and stretch the respect into you."

When King attempted a third elbow that had a full 360 spin to it before being delivered, Kazuya grabbed onto the attacking arm and pulled it down. Before King could pull it free, Kazuya lifted his right leg and delivered a swift slap-like kick to his head. Bringing his foot back down across the other side of the wrestler's face, Kazuya knocked King to the ground with a derogatory-but-effective maneuver that he had devised himself: the "Bitch Kicks." Before Kazuya could again pounce on King, the wrestler scrambled back to his feet and slapped himself once to wipe away any dizziness that might have resulted from the attack.

With a scoff, Kazuya dashed towards King and prepared to deliver a swift Electric Wind Godfist to the wrestler's chin. However, either out of remarkably quick reflex or by coincidence, King stepped to the side and avoided Kazuya's trademark attack. Before Kazuya could attempt another attack or even turn his body, King lifted Kazuya over his head and onto his shoulders to place in him an Argentine Rack. Not even willing to let Kazuya struggle, King bent Kazuya by his neck and legs, attempted to break his back like a wishbone. When Kazuya only shouted out in pain, King decided that would be good enough for the moment and lifted Kazuya over his head once again before throwing him down to the ground.

Once again leaning down to continue the attack while Kazuya was still down, King wound up ducking right into a rising fist that caused him to stumble away in recoil. Kazuya stood back up and rubbed his back a bit before charging King with violent intent. As soon as King turned back to face his enemy, Kazuya took to the air and delivered a spinning kick to the wrestler's head. As soon as he landed, Kazuya crouched down and continued the assault with a pair of low sweeping kicks before rising back up with a standing roundhouse to send King flying.

"…that should not have been possible," King muttered before pushing himself back up to see Kazuya's eyes narrow. "To go right from a jump kick to low sweeps, and ending with a standing roundhouse, all on the same leg: how do you do that? Someone with legs like yours should not be able to accomplish such a feat without blowing out your quadriceps. Could it be that you have tainted your body with performance-enhancing drugs, you dishonorable swine!?"

"I can assure you that my power isn't something you can come up with in a laboratory," Kazuya said with a smirk before moving his head to the side to avoid King's Straight Arrow and counter with a lunging straight of his own that connected with King's ribcage and made him fold over like an accordion: his Glorious Demon Fist. Once King had fully crumpled onto his stomach, the Cold-Blooded Prince lifted his foot and prepared to stomp on the wrestler's head. "How about you stop trying to make excuses and fight…or can you not do so without rehearsing first!?"

Putting his hands over his head, King caught Kazuya's foot mere inches away from his head. "Do not insult my art, fiend," King growled as he stood back up with Kazuya's foot still in his hands. Lifting his leg to push Kazuya down on his back, King gave the foot a sharp twist and elicited a shout of pain from the Cold-Blooded Prince. Turning Kazuya over into his belly by twisting his leg with such force that he rolled with the yank, King put his opponent's trapped ankle between his thighs and fell down on top of Kazuya's back. "Before you write my art off as a sham…perhaps I should give you another taste of how effective it can be!"

With Kazuya's leg now linked with his own, King reached over and pulled on his adversary's head, stretching him like a taffy and causing severe strain to the neck and back area while adding additional pressure to Kazuya's knee. Roaring in pain, Kazuya's flailed his arms for a moment as he tried to figure out how he could get out of such a peculiar hold. Even if King made a living as an entertainer, the martial arts techniques he used to entertain with did indeed hurt. The Cold-Blooded Prince would have to use all of his strength to get out of the hold, and win the fight.

Deciding the first step would be to get King's hands off of his head, Kazuya lifted his hands and tried his best to pry the wrestler's fingers off of him. Unfortunately, King's physical strength was almost unrivaled in the King of Iron Fist tournament: breaking it quickly proved to be far from a menial task. "I will not let go until you pass out," King shouted as he pulled back further, elicited a louder shout of pain from his enemy. "Villains shall be vanquished, and right shall prevail. That is the way of those who follow the path of God!"

"Is that right? Then what would you think if you were defeated by someone who followed the path of the Devil?"

Tilting his head in curiosity, King immediately took note that how Kazuya's tone of voice changed completely. Curiosity quickly turned to shock when Kazuya successfully removed King's hands from his face with a quick yank, and then pulled the arms apart until the wrestler roared in pain. "Impossible," King muttered as he stood back up and stepped away from the rising Kazuya. When Kazuya turned back around to face him, King jumped back in surprise at what he saw: his opponent's eyes were now glowing red like rubies. "Just what are you?"

"I am the Devil Made Flesh," the creature posing as Kazuya claimed before he dashed towards King with such speed that the wrestler had absolutely no way to defend against the leaping Thunder Godfist that sent him flying into the air and crashing hard on his face. "I shall show you that the God you worship is as much of a lie as the ridiculous martial art that you use!"

Pushing himself off the ground as fast as he could, King lifted his fists and turned to face his attacker, but Kazuya was already right in front of him. Driving his fist upwards into King's chest, Kazuya lifted the significantly heavier fighter off of the ground with only his attacking hand, and then forced him back down to the ground with a vertical elbow smash. While King only fell a few feet, he bounced off of the ground as if he had been dropped off of a rooftop, proving how much force Kazuya was using in his attacks.

Slowly rising back up, King prepared to tackle Kazuya to the ground so that he could be in the dominant position, but Kazuya quickly put a stop to that by lifting his left leg and bringing it down atop King's head. The Splits Axe Kick topped King over like a tree and forced him onto his back. Rather than let King roll away, over even writhe in pain, Kazuya lifted his foot and smashed his sole against King's chest repeatedly, seemingly determined to stomp a hole through the wrestler.

After the eleventh stomp, Kazuya lifted King back up by his neck and laughed maniacally at how the wrestler was now stumbling to stay on his feet. "Where is your God now, scum," Kazuya shouted before launching King into the air with an Electric Wind Godfist. Not even willing to give the wrestler a chance to fall the ground, the Cold-Blooded Prince continued the assault with a snapping kick, a quick jab, and an impaling knee that kept King afloat before sending the luchadore spiraling away with a standing roundhouse kick. "Where is your God now!?"

King's pin fizzled out and let out a puff of smoke, indicating that Kazuya was the winner of the fight, but even that wasn't enough to satiate the Zaibatsu leader's rage. Running over to the fallen fighter and mounting his fallen body, Kazuya lifted his fists and began smashing them over King's head while laughing evilly. Whatever civility and nobility Kazuya had possessed entering the fight, offering King a drink and exchanging ideologies, was now buried beneath an even darker persona: one that thrived on chaos and bloodshed, and wanted nothing more than to bathe in the blood and innards of his victim.

Luckily for King, Kazuya literally had a voice in the back of his head to tell him that what he was doing was wrong.

"_Kazuya…stop!"_

With Kazuya's fist stopping a mere inch away from King's masked face, the aggressor's red eyes faded until they returned to a normal color, and the insane smile on his face became a look of bewilderment. "…your pin has self-destructed," Kazuya finally said after an awkward silence, looking down at what remained of King's identification pin. Standing back up and dusting himself off, Kazuya turned around and began to walk away from his defeated opponent. "Your role in this tournament is over. Don't forget to pick up your belongings at the hotel and speak to one of the tournament officials about getting a ticket back home."

"W-wait," King sputtered as he tried to stand back up, only to clutch his ribs and fall down onto one knee. "How were you able to break out of my 'STF?' No ordinary human could have broken out of that while in such a position…unless you are not human. Just what in the world are you: a demon!?"

Before Kazuya could answer that question, a young woman and a man wearing the ceremonial garments of a priest opened the entrance of the church and stepped inside. Walking past the Cold-Blooded Prince, the duo made their way over to King and knelt down next to him. "Oh, King, I am so sorry," the minister said with his voice low with disappointment. "If it will make you feel any better, I will raise money here at our church so that it can go towards your just cause: just because you didn't win the tournament doesn't mean that your children will starve."

As the trio spoke with one another, Kazuya closed his eyes and pondered what to do next. One side told him to turn around and break King's spine so that he could never hurt him again, while the other side told him to help King to his feet and ask what he could do to assist whatever King's cause might have been. When he came to a decision, a mischievous smirk formed on his lips and his turned back around to approach the wrestler.

"I do believe I recall reading that you own an orphanage in Mexico," Kazuya said as King looked up to face him. "After much deliberation, I have decided that I will donate one million yen to your funding. That should be enough for you to keep those little brats pacified for a while, and give you more time to go out and find some more alcohol to consume."

"W-what was that!?" King sputtered, lifting his arm so that he could clothesline Kazuya's head off but held back by the young woman and the minister. "I do not need your dirty money, demon! Retract your donation immediately or I will-"

"King, please: that kind of money doesn't come around very often," the young woman told the wrestler before turning to Kazuya and bowing her head. "God bless you, sir: you have made many children less fortunate than you are very, very happy. I can promise you that none of us will forget this!"

"See that you don't," Kazuya said with a nod before turning back around and heading for the exit.

"_Excellent work, Kazuya," _a gentle, female voice whispered in Kazuya's ear as he swung the church doors open and stepped outdoors. _"You were presented with a chance to do great harm, and you instead opted to take the just path. Now, remind me of why you did that."_

"Because it is better to have strong allies than it is to have strong enemies," Kazuya answered out loud as he headed for the limousine that was waiting for him outside. "King realizes that I have done him a huge favor that I had no obligation to perform, and now his idiotic pride will guarantee that he will return the favor done to him, should I call upon him. He may hate it with every fiber of his being, but he cannot ignore that I am now his ally, and he will treat me as such. Simply put…I am killing him with kindness, and now he has begun to dig his own grave." Turning around to see King slowly step out of the church to watch him leave, Kazuya's grin widened before entering his limo. "It was just business…and business is good."


	10. R2: Jun vs Wang

While Japan might not have appeared very big on a world map, to a single human being it was much larger than initial appearances would lead it to believe. Each of the islands that consisted of the nation had its own landmarks and structures that represented the curious legacy Japan had. On one part was the megacity of Tokyo, hands down one of the most populated cities on the entire planet despite the island it was based on being quite small. On another segment of the island was the old capital of Kyoto, with its rich history and stories to tell. On yet another part of the island was Osaka, which was almost as populated as Tokyo and just as modernized.

When it came to geographical landscapes, however, exact locations became difficult to identify. Japan was a country that was blessed was all types of animals, plant life, and landmarks. It bore anything from forests, bamboo thickets, hot springs, mountains, and even volcanoes. There were so many of these landmarks, in fact, that some of them did not even appear on the average national maps. Without the local residents of the area and tour guides, it was quite easy for an outsider to get lost within the geographical roll of the dice that consisted of some parts of Japan.

However, even though he was not an official resident of the country, Wang Jinrei had crossed the mountains of Japan many times in his long lifetime. With his teal cheongsam with golden trim and matching hat, along with a long white beard Though he was now over eighty years of age, during the days of his youth he would often travel from his homeland of China to the island nation to further his martial arts training and explore the wonders of the foreign land. Even when war was about to break out between his country and the one he visited, Wang would bravely continue his traveling despite the very real possibility of him being detained and accused of being a foreign spy.

That is why when the Mishima Zaibatsu alerted him of where his next fight would be, Wang had absolutely no problems finding his way towards the fight location. He had planned to make another visit to the location anyway, so he decided he would kill two birds with one stone and bring a bottle of sake and a pair of cups along with him. Upon arriving at the location, Wang sat down next to his foreign friend that had been waiting for him that day…and every day for the past several years. "Forgive me for keeping you waiting, Jinpachi," Wang told his old friend as he sat down next to him…or at least, what acted in place of his friend. "There was a certain brand of sake I wanted to try out, so I purchased that before I came here."

Jinpachi did not answer back…for he was not even there. Standing in place of Jinpachi was a simple tombstone with the words "Jinpachi Mishima" carved in its side. Many years before, Jinpachi was the founder of the Mishima Zaibatsu and master of Mishima-ryu Fighting Karate, and Wang Jinrei was his most frequent sparring partner and closest friend: a user in the ancient art of Xing Yi. The two of them had met when they were still young men, and formed a friendship that would last for the rest of their existence. Even when war was about to break out between their respective countries, there was no ill will between the two martial artists.

Although they both had a wife and children to take care of, Wang and Jinpachi used their families as excuses to come visit one another and show off the fruits of their labor. Their respective families seemed to get along with one another quite almost as well as the two friends did, and this did nothing but strengthen their friendship. Jinpachi was particularly proud to introduce Wang to his young son Heihachi, who had already gained an interest in the martial and political arts despite his age. Jinpachi would often boast about how proud he was of his son, and Wang admitted that he was impressed with how much of a scholar Heihachi was.

However, something became sour along the way: despite Jinpachi's best intentions, Heihachi grew up to be a ruthless individual, and wound up usurping the Mishima Zaibatsu forcefully. Although a body was never found, Wang feared the worst: Jinpachi was gone, and now all he had to remember him was a grave stone that he created himself. _Even though he is no longer here with me physically, I know that my friend's spirit is watching over me, _Wang told himself as he set a cup down in front of Jinpachi's tombstone and opened the bottle of sake. _Jinpachi, please accept this token of my appreciation for your friendship. Hopefully it will satiate your spirit until I have fulfilled your final wish._

"Excuse me…are you Participant Four?"

Turning his head to hear a gentle voice call out his number, Wang smiled at what he saw: a slender young woman wearing a short white waistcoat and jean shorts combination that showed off her slender torso and toned legs. With a white hairband in her jet black hair and a face as lovely as the cherry blossoms that grew in the area, the young woman stood with her hand at her hip awaiting the old man's answer. "Jinpachi, this must be our lucky day," the old man said to his friend as he stood up and turned fully to face the young woman. "A beautiful young thing has come to act as entertainment."

"'Entertainment?'" the young woman repeated with an eyebrow raised in curiosity. "Who are you talking to?"

"Just an old friend, young lady," Wang replied, motioning to the tombstone behind him with a wave of his hand. "He and I drink together every two months, and today just so happened to be the day that we came together for another drink. To answer your question, however, I am indeed Participant Four in this tournament. My name is Wang Jinrei…but you can call me anything you want to, young lady. Hehehehe…"

Ignoring the old man's pass at her, the young woman looked past Wang and at the tombstone. "I…I detect no spiritual energy emanating from that tombstone. I am afraid that your friend's spirit might have already passed on…or perhaps he is on his way here." Bowing her head politely, the young woman identified herself. "Master Wang, my name is Jun Kazama. I am an officer of the WWWC, and would like to ask you some questions before we begin."

"Oh…of course, young lady," Wang returned the bow and picked up the cup of sake that he had poured for Jinpachi. "Jinpachi must not have come yet: we're both getting very old, so our sense of time isn't quite what it used to be." Sitting down with his back facing the tombstone, Wang offered the cup of sake to Jun as she sat down in front of him. "Please, young lady, take this sake as an apology for my mistake. We still have some time left before we have to fight, so I shall help you in any way I can…except, of course, letting you advance to the next round."

"We will see," Jun replied as she sat down on her knees and inspected the sake carefully, making sure that it wasn't poisoned. Once she saw that Wang was drinking the sake without any trouble, Jun took a swig and almost spat it back out. "Y-you seem to have modified the alcohol content of this sake, Master Wang," Jun pointed out as she put the cup aside and blinked as her eyes began to water. "I can gargle Jack Daniels for twenty-three seconds, but even this is too strong for me!"

"The reaction to this sake is an indication of the state of one's soul, young lady," Wang explained as he took another swig of his sake and let out a breath of relief. "You are filled with uncertainty, and not just about whether or not you will advance through this tournament. I have been around a long time, and I have heard the name 'Kazama' mentioned several times in my travels. You seek to eradicate evil wherever it may roam, and if you have come to this tournament, that means that you have probably come to eradicate the Mishima clan."

"'Eradicate' is a very strong word, Master Wang," Jun pointed out as she picked the cup back up and put it to her mouth and gently sipped it, remembering that she still had a fight ahead of her and she didn't want to fully intoxicate herself beforehand. "I recall reading that you are very closely tied to the Mishima family, so I would like you to tell me what you know about them. You are correct in assuming that I am after the Mishima…but I have no intention of ending anyone's life."

"If this were anyone else, then I would agree with you," Wang replied with his head hung low. "The founder of the Zaibatsu, Jinpachi Mishima, was my best friend: the grave market behind me is something I built in honor of his great life. He created the Zaibatsu not to promote war, but to preserve peace: he was a true martial artist, believing that the fighting arts were made to enhance one's mind and spirit, rather than to destroy the spirits of others…but his son did not share that belief."

"You are referring to Heihachi," Jun finished Wang's thought, to which the old man nodded in acknowledgement. "I have spoken to Heihachi, and he does not seem like a man beyond redemption. He is as much of a businessman as he is a martial artist, but his ideology is nothing short of ruthless, going so far as to overthrow his own father to take control of the Zaibatsu and turn it into a military empire."

"Before his disappearance, Jinpachi told me something," Wang looked up into the sky as he remembered his old friend's words. "'To preserve peace, the Mishima bloodline must be put to an end.' Jinpachi was a very peaceful man, but he realized that he would be the last such Mishima with these kinds of ideals. He told me that if he should fail in his quest to stop his son, it would be up to me to fulfill his mission." Looking back down at Jun, Wang pointed at his identification pin on his sleeve. "I entered the previous tournament to stop Heihachi, but his son Kazuya defeated him before I had the chance to do so. Unfortunately, Kazuya has proven to be even worse than his father: it is as if the Mishima become worse and worse with each passing generation."

"Tell me more about Kazuya," Jun requested politely. "Please, I would like to know about his past: what he was like before he became the leader of the Zaibatsu."

"Kazuya was once a kind and gentle boy: he had the simple dream of wanting to grow up to become even stronger than either his father or his grandfather," the old man allowed himself a smile as he remembered Kazuya's younger years and took another swig of his sake. "You see, before Heihachi lead his coup, Jinpachi and Kazuya trained with each other regularly. Jinpachi nurtured Kazuya's kindness in spite of Heihachi's wishes to subject him to the harsher training regimens. Once Jinpachi was taken out of the equation, however, Kazuya gentle nature faded and faded with each passing day…until he became the man that you see now."

"I suspect there might be a deeper reason as to why that happened," Jun added, causing Wang to raise his eyebrows in surprise and curiosity. Seeing that she had Wang's attention, the young woman continued. "I have reason to believe that a supernatural force is pulling Kazuya's strings from behind. Heihachi himself has confirmed that Kazuya relied on using such supernatural powers to defeat him: something that he claims is 'dark magic.' If I can rid Kazuya of these supernatural forces, then perhaps his soul can still be salvaged."

"If only it were that simple," Wang shook his head in disappointment. "Kazuya has already been tainted by Heihachi's imperialistic teachings: even he did have some kind of evil spirit acting as his guardian, removing it would not change the kind of person he is now. I'm afraid the only way to stop either Heihachi or Kazuya now is to permanently render them both harmless…but I am getting old, and would like to pass on this task to someone else. That is why I entered this tournament: to find someone who can carry out the mission that Jinpachi bestowed upon me, and save the world from the taint of the Mishima bloodline. If I cannot find someone, though…then I will have to advance through the tournament and do what must be done myself."

"I cannot let you do that, Master Wang," Jun replied sternly, slowly standing back up and taking several steps back before assuming her fighting stance. "Violence only begets more violence: even if you killed the Mishimas, someone like them would take their place and create a new reign of terror. If there is going to peace, then it must be attained through peace, and not through violence. That is why if you intend to kill Kazuya…you are going to have to go through me first."

Rather than return Jun's words with a threat of his own, Wang instead laughed joyfully, as if he had heard a funny joke. "Hohohohoho…I did not think someone of your ideals still came to these tournaments! I was beginning to think that the only one I could rely on in this tournament for a laugh like that was Lee." Finishing his sake, Wang stood back up and wiped his mouth before stepping away from the cups and assuming his own fighting stance. "Unfortunately, those type of ideals often do not reflect the way reality works. As a Kazama, you know that evil must be destroyed, no matter what the cost. As long as evil exists, then there will always be a chance for destruction."

"Not at the cost of human life," Jun retorted. "Evil is a disease, and it must be eradicated. However, the cure should never come at the cost of the patient infected with it. As long as life still exists, there is a chance for redemption. If I were to rob Kazuya of that chance for redemption, then I would be no better than the evil ones that I am trying to fight. I will stop the Mishima in my own way, starting with Kazuya."

"Why are you so interested in Kazuya?" Wang asked with his head tilted in curiosity. "If you are an officer, you know full well what kind of evil he is capable of. Why in the world would you want to save someone as corrupted as that? Even if you rid him of the supernatural forces surrounding him, what makes you think that he would return to being the same kind person he was when he was a boy?"

"…Kazuya is not evil, but insane," Jun whispered before carefully advancing towards the old man. "He literally hears voices in his head that compel him to do bad things. Until I cure him of this insanity, then I shall not let anyone take his life…even if it is someone as well-meaning as you." Once she was within striking distance, Jun performed a standing backflip and knocked the old man into the air. After completing the backflip, the young woman sent Wang careening backwards with a vertical elbow strike while he was still in mid-air. "Forgive me, but I must go forward!"

Wang landed on his back with a thud before groaning in pain. "Oooooh," he groaned as he slowly stood back up and rubbed his back. "I did not expect someone as beautiful as you to strike with such force: I suppose it was wrong to me to think that you were only speaking without having the action to back up what you say." After hearing a loud "pop" come from his back, Wang let out a sigh of relief and resumed his fighting stance, a confident smile forming on his face. "Come, young one: I will show you that age has nothing to do with fighting spirit!"

Not intimidated by Wang's confidence, Jun spun around an attempted to deliver a lunging elbow to the elder man's face, but the old man was quicker than his frail appearance would lead people to believe. Ducking under the high elbow, Wang countered with a quick punch to Jun's sternum, followed by an upwards punch that sent Jun flying through the air as if being pushed by an exceptionally strong gale of wind. It was as if she was floating into the air rather than being forcefully sent into it, giving Wang enough time to put his arms behind his back and watch as Jun soared like the birds she enjoyed watching.

With the metaphorical wind gave way, Jun landed flat on her back and groaned. If the old man had a build like Heihachi, then she would have expected being knocked upwards in the manner that she did. However, Wang appeared to be even skinner than she was: there was no real reason for him to have such power behind his attacks. "You are probably wondering how I was able to give you such height on that attack," Wang said out loud, alerting Jun was the old man was now right next to her, causing her to scramble backwards and assume her fighting stance. "Power is not the same as strength: even someone of my size can smash boulders of one's ki is strong enough."

"I am familiar with the concept of ki," Jun said as she moved her head back to avoid a high kick from the old man. Countering with a palm thrust that she delivered while sliding to her left, Jun sent the old man off of his feet and onto the ground while drawing forth her firework-like energy. "No matter how much I train, I do not have the type of body that can gain muscle easily: that is why I too have worked hard to master the technique of channeling ki."

Quickly returning to his feet, Wang resumed is fighting stance just in time to see Jun coming at him for another attack. Seeing Jun attempt a low sweep, the old man crouched down and swatted the attacking leg aside to cause the young woman to lose her balance and fall onto her bottom. Leaning forwards to give his attack more oomph, Wang shot out both of his palms and sent Jun sliding across the grass with a technique he fittingly called "Double Palm Thrust."

Rolling backwards with the momentum of the sliding, Jun resumed her fighting stance and once again charged forward. This time, Wang went down low to attack the young woman with a low sweeping kick. However, Jun jumped over the leg and kicked the old man in the head with a leaping snap kick, sending Wang airborne much in the same manner that he sent Jun in the air with his Skyscraper attack. Jun was able to sent Wang so high up, in fact, that she was able to continue the assault with a snapping elbow before the old man could hit the ground, sending him flying backwards before crashing into the tombstone of Jinpachi Mishima.

The old man groaned as he pushed himself off the ground and rubbed his back where it collided with the tombstone. The time he spent getting up would have been ample time for Jun to continue the assault, but instead the young woman patiently waited for Wang to get away from the stone and resume his fighting stance. As soon as Wang was close enough to be considered officially "outside of the stone's vinicity," Jun once again went on the offensive and charged the man.

_Interesting, _Wang mused as he ducked under Jun's crescent kick and countered with a rising vertical kick that caused Jun to fall flat on her back: his Skyscraper Kick. _That woman could have inflicted great harm upon me had she attacked while I was recovering from crashing into Jinpachi's grave. Why did she not attack? _Lifting his foot in preparation for a stomp, Wang proved to be too slow and Jun rolled backwards to avoid the attack, leaving the old man's foot to kick up dirt and grass like his leg was a heavy weight being dropped on the ground. _She is most certainly not a stupid fighter: was she simply afraid that I would be hurt had she attacked?_

Returning to her feet, Jun looked up to see Wang's fist coming for her face. Lifting her arms up, Jun successfully caught the attacking arm and pulled down on it to drag Wang down to the ground onto his stomach. Keeping the arm in one hand, Jun lifted her free hand and brought it down on Wang's temple with a punishing fist. Jun jumped back to let Wang stand back up, but the attack clearly dazed the old man, which meant that the young woman could continue the attack.

When Wang suddenly lifted his palm and put it out in front of him, Jun thought that the old man was signaling for her to stop while he regained his bearings. "I am sorry, but there are no breathers in this tournament," Jun said as she lifted her fist and prepared to attack. "I cannot stop until you have been defeated." When she leaned forward to deliver a Screw Punch, Jun's eagerness to attack proved costly as Wang evaded the punch by stepping backwards, and then punished the attack by moving forwards again, underneath the arm and tripping the young woman with his hands sweeping underneath her feet.

Jun once again found herself on her bottom, with Wang standing over her ready to attack. Before the old man could pounce on her, the young woman kicked Wang in the shin to allow herself time to stand back up. Rather than attack with a strike once she was standing up, Jun instead attacked with a grapple by grabbing onto Wang's arm and then spinning behind him so that their backs were facing one another. With Wang's arm now behind both of their backs, Jun spun around 90 degrees and gave the old man's arm a twirl, forcing him to flip forwards and land on his back with a Cherry Blossom throw. Instead of jumping away, the young woman performed a cartwheel so that she could plant her foot into Wang's chest.

The old man wound up catching the foot in his hand, and returned to a standing position with it still in his hand. After rearing back and charging his ripple-like white energy while Jun hopped on one foot, the old man rammed his shoulder and hip into Jun's body and sent her sprawling backwards. Even though Wang was a man of small stature, his master of ki allowed him to put as much impact into the stationary attack as a linebacker that was making a mad rush for a quarterback. His power could still be felt even as Jun slowly stood back up and resumed her fighting stance.

Hurt but far from defeated, Jun waited for Wang to come in close, and then lashed out at him with another crescent kick. This one succeeded in making full contact, and Wang was knocked onto his back forcefully. To her surprise, the old man recovered quicker from the attack than she had anticipated, as he stood back up as fast as he fell down and moved towards his adversary in a strange manner that looked as if he was stretching towards her. Unable to anticipate such a strange movement, Jun was knocked backwards by both of Wang's fists colliding with her midsection simultaneously: an attack dubbed "Lunging Double Fist."

Just as Jun stood back up, she saw Wang once again advancing towards her in a strange manner, this time shoulder-first down low. When she ducked to avoid was she thought would be a low attack, Wang suddenly rose back up and lifted her over his shoulders in a fireman's carry. Before Jun could even struggle to break free, the old man tossed her away to his side with such force that her body rolled like a wild tire. The awkward position Jun was in during the roll caused her significant pain, and when she finally came to a stop her entire body ached. "You are still much too young to understand the way I fight, Jun Kazama," the old man said as he once again put his hands behind his back and watched as Jun shook her head from the dizziness and stood back up. "If you surrender now, then I will make sure that your defeat will be quick and relatively painless."

"…you cannot possibly be serious," Jun responded calmly, though her eyes burned with a quiet fury: one that did not escape the notice of the old master. "Now that I know the troubled history of the Mishima, I cannot possibly turn a blind eye towards it. As a Kazama…no, as a human being, it is my duty to cleanse that family of evil. If I can get close enough to Kazuya, and exorcise the demons that control him, then all that would be left is to have him reconcile with Heihachi. Then, and only then will the taint of the Mishima bloodline be cleansed."

_Look at those eyes, _Wang thought as Jun charged as him at a full run before taking to the air and delivering a running drop kick that sent Wang sliding across the grass even though he blocked. Watching Jun quickly stand back up, Wang attempted to send her flying away with a Double Palm Thrust, but the young woman effortlessly sidestepped the attack and countered with a palm thrust of her own: one that struck Wang in the stomach and caused him to crumple to the ground as Jun's firework-like ki burst from the point of impact: her Inner Strength technique. _I haven't seen eyes like those since Jinpachi told me his last words._

Performing a Cartwheel Stomp, Jun planted her foot into Wang's stomach to elicit a cry of pain before jumping off and letting Wang slowly get back up on his feet. When he did so, Jun delivered a quick palm thrust to the old man's chest before following up by grabbing Wang's face. Before the old man could react, he was toppled over like a timbering tree in the wake of a second Inner Strength: this time to his face. _I clearly underestimated the resolve of this young woman. She spoke her words with such conviction…and the power that lies within her fists are capable of backing up what she claims._

When Wang rolled to his feet, Jun was already there waiting for him. The young woman placed the old man in a three-quarter facelock so that his throat was lined up with her shoulder, and then yanked his head down to jam them together. Hearing Wang let out a loud cough, Jun tossed the old man over her shoulder by his neck and onto his back in front of her. _This is not the rage of a young sapling that is trying to mimic a tree, _the old man mused before rolling forward to avoid Jun's downward punch and returning to his feet to catch his breath. _This is the determination of a true warrior so that she can fulfill her mission...let us see how that determination fairs against this attack._

Taking advantage of Jun's aggressive momentum, Wang took a step forward and plunged his fist into Jun's stomach to send her rolling backwards uncontrollably. The Power Fist was comparable in strength to Paul Phoenix's Phoenix Smasher, despite Paul's considerably superior muscle mass and conditioning. It was a testament to Wang's theory of power not necessarily meaning strength, and it had defeated many fighters with considerably more training and experience than Jun. To the young woman's credit, however, she stood back up rather quickly and wiped away the bloody saliva that was drawn from such a powerful attack. "Impressive," Wang whispered as he charged the young woman only to run into an effective combination of a low kick, spinning backfist, palm thrust, and crescent kick that put him down on the ground for the umpteenth time: the mark of Jun's "White Heron Dance."

Slowly returning to his feet, Wang looked up to see Jun literally spinning towards him as if she were about to toss a discus. Even though the old man realized that what the young woman was truly doing was preparing for a particularly nasty attack, Wang did nothing to stop Jun from performing it. Instead, he merely planted his feet and closed his eyes, waiting for what he knew for a fact would be the finishing attack. _Jinpachi, my friend, _Wang thought as Jun finally delivered her most powerful strike, the Spinning Heel Drop, to the side of his head and sent him spiraling away with Jun's ki streaking behind him. _I do believe I have found someone who can not only carry out your last wish, but improve upon it._

Wang landed hard on the ground with his face in the dirt, but did not black out for even a second despite how he certainly felt like doing so. Hearing Jun's slow footsteps approaching him, the old man reached for his pin and crushed it in between his fingertips, effectively forfeiting his match to the young woman. "…why did you do that?" Jun asked, the act not escaping her attention. "You could have continued fighting, and possibly defeated me to bring you closer to fulfilling your friend's wish…even if I do not believe that wish is one that should be fulfilled."

"I was defeated the moment I traded fists with you, young lady," Wang answered as he rubbed his head and wondered how he stayed conscious from Jun's kick. "In the end, I am just an old fool trying to fix things that are not my place to fix. Putting an end to the evils of the Mishima bloodline is something for the new generation to accomplish…someone like you."

"I have nothing against the old generation, Master Wang," Jun responded as she knelt down next to the old man and offered her hand to help him up. "It is only natural for the juniors to look up to their seniors: I believe the previous generation has much to the current one, while the younger generation can uphold and even improve upon those teachings. I hope that one day that I can teach what I have learned to the generation after me…but first, I must prove that what I am preaching is not merely bluster."

"Then I shall gladly hand over the responsibility of handling the Zaibatsu to y-OH!" Wang suddenly fell over as he took Jun's hand and stood up. Landing with his face right in Jun's chest, the old man was supported by the young woman's toned arms, though when he remained pressed against her bosom longer than logically necessary, Jun quickly pushed him back and got a look of the perverted grin on Wang's face. "So soft, and yet so supple. I see the new generation has also gained improved assets!"

"Goodbye, Master Wang," Jun bowed her head before turning away from the old man, though there was a slightly annoyed look on her face. "When we meet again, I will hopefully have the results of my mission, and you can put your friend's soul to rest, wherever it might be…"

As soon as Jun had walked out of sight, Wang turned around to Jinpachi's tombstone and picked up the bottle of sake that he had left on top and poured it into the cup nearest to the stone. "Jinpachi, old friend, I think we have just met a once-in-a-lifetime woman," the old man said with a smile before pouring himself a cup of sake and drinking deeply. "She has a touch of destiny to her: perhaps not all hope is lost for your family, after all."


	11. Sides of the Coin

_**Author's Note: **It took me eleven chapters, but I'm finally practicing what I preached and getting the Kazuya/Jun boat moving. Read on, my friend!_

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When the King of Iron Fist Tournament 2 began, there were over twenty competitors staying at the hotel resort the Zaibatsu reserved for their guests. However, in the span of only four days, the number of active competitors shrank down to a mere four: a quartet of martial artists that had proved their worth as the four best fighters in the world who were willing to display their talents. As much as the other competitors hated to admit it, there was no excuse for any of them losing to this quartet, other than that they simply were not strong enough to overcome them.

As with the first round, there would be a one day rest period between the recently-concluded second round and the semifinal round that would decide the finalists for the tournament. Earlier in the tournament, Kazuya Mishima told his fellow tournament entries that he had no interest in learning about his opponents, which is why everyone was assigned a number. In Kazuya's eyes, everyone else in the tournament was less than an individual until they proved to him otherwise. Now that the first and second rounds were over, Kazuya now knew who was worthy of his time.

That is why when the second round concluded, Kazuya extended an invitation to the numbers that advanced to the semifinals. His board of directors had initially advised against it, saying that a would-be assassin could easily masquerade as a competitor and break into his office at the Zaibatsu Tower to slay him. Despite these warnings, Kazuya held firm to his decision and informed his men to notify the other three participants of his invitation. "If they have come this far to slay me, then they will have the decency to wait until the tournament is over," Kazuya told his board of directors before retreating to his office to wait for whoever accepted his invitation. "I would now like to at least know the faces of who I am dealing with."

The board of directors was not the only ones who were confused about Kazuya's invitation. The supernatural entity known as Devil, who had acted as Kazuya's secret advisor throughout his reign as Zaibatsu leader, had similar complaints that his human subordinates had. _"What is the point of meeting your enemies if not to slay them?" _Devil whispered as Kazuya looked at his reflection in the glass elevator window, seeing the purple demon staring back at him. _"If you invite them to the tower, then you will be giving away vital secrets such as the framework of our office. You should order the personal guard to ambush the competitors in the lobby, and shoot them down like game. That would be the wise choice."_

"It would be the wise choice if I were dealing with a business rival or someone who wanted to forcefully invade the Zaibatsu, but not for the tournament," Kazuya responded, folding his arms and smirking at his "partner's" insecurity. "This tournament has been created for the purpose of furthering my plans of world domination. By meeting with my fellow semifinalists, I can use my powers of persuasion to lure them over to my side when it comes time to choose allegiances during my world coup. After all, it is much better to have strong allies than it is to have strong enemies."

"_The strongest of all does not need allies to rely on: only underlings," _Devil hissed back as the elevator door opened to reveal Kazuya's room. _"You have been listening to the weak and foolish gospel of that other entity, haven't you? Why do you still listen to her when you know that everything she preaches is feeble and soft…like your mother who died giving birth to you because she could not handle your power?"_

Kazuya's smirk disappeared with Devil's remark, and his hands became clenched into fists. "I have allowed you to say and do many things during our time together, Devil," the young man growled as he turned to the mirror set near his door and gazed into the demon's visage. "However, if you wish to have my continued services, I would suggest that you watch your tongue when mentioning my family, especially the side of the family that brought me into this world!"

"_Why? I am only stating the truth," _Devil replied with a cruel smile, which Kazuya returned with a snarl. _"If your mother was anything worthwhile, she would have survived giving birth to you, and wouldn't have left you to fend for yourself against the madness that was your father. Your mother was weak, otherwise she would still be alive today. That is not my merely my side of the story, but the way life is."_

"And what of my grandfather, hailed as the strongest warrior of his era?" the Cold-Blooded Prince growled as he turned away from the mirror and walked towards his window to watch the moving city below. "Heihachi used political clout to overthrow him as the head of the Zaibatsu, and when he tried to take back what was his, my father once again used underhanded tactics to do away with him for good. Tell me, Devil…did being tricked by such cowardice make him a weakling, as well?"

"_If he were truly strong, then he would not have been ousted by Heihachi," _Devil explained, talking about the matter as if it were being discussed over tea. _"Jinpachi treated you like you were a mere lamb and that softness is what led to his downfall. If he were strong, he would have fought fire with fire and came up with his own methods to deal with Heihachi's underhanded tactics, but he believed in fighting fair. In the end, he suffered an idiotic defeat, met a stupid fate, and proved his weakness to the world." _Taking note of Kazuya's angered expression, Devil chuckled at his host body's reaction. _"What is wrong, Kazuya? Do you still hold feelings for that old man?"_

"That is none of your concern, demon," Kazuya responded, a hint of rage in his quiet voice. "All you need to worry about is preparing yourself in case I have use for you during this tournament. If you want me to fulfill your dream of engulfing this world into chaos, then you will have to return the favor by making sure that I remain in power. If you cannot even do that, then I have no use for you whatsoever, and I will use all of my resources to figure out how to exorcise you. I have no place for weaklings, after-AGH!"

Kazuya's words were cut off by a sharp pain that ran through his spinal cord and to his brain stem, causing him to fall to his knees and grip his head in agony. _"You dare order me around like I am one of your subordinates!?" _Devil roared, his voice echoing throughout Kazuya's soul as the Zaibatsu leader grit his teeth to keep himself from screaming and giving his alter-ego the satisfaction of victory. _"Who was it that gave you the power to survive that fall into the ravine!? Who was it that gave you the power to withstand your father's ridiculous training methods!? Who was it that gave you the power to defeat your father in the last tournament!?" _Increasing his deathgrip over Kazuya's mind, Devil screamed louder and caused his host to buckle over in pain. _"WHO WAS IT WHO STOOD BY YOU FOR ALL OF THIS TIME!?"_

"D-damn you to the Hell that you came from," Kazuya cursed the treacherous being that now had a deathgrip on him, body and soul. "I have given you a vessel to walk this Earth with, and this is how you repay me? Are you really stupid enough to kill me and leave yourself immaterial?" Lifting a knee so that he could push himself off the ground, Kazuya looked at his reflection to see Devil's glowing eyes staring back him. "If you think you can, then go ahead! I, Kazuya Mishima, shall accept your challenge!"

Before Kazuya could literally have a battle against himself, however, the pain in his body suddenly vanished and he could no longer hear Devil's angered screaming. After a moment of silence to make sure that his alter-ego had truly quieted down, the Cold-Blooded Prince allowed himself a smirk and returned to his feet and dusted off his tuxedo. "So, in the end, you're just bluster," he said out loud as he looked at his reflection in the window, no longer seeing the purple demon alongside him. "Is the threat of you leaving you without a body so great?"

"_I was the one that stopped Devil from doing something to you that all of us would regret, Kazuya," _a considerably gentler female voice answered in Devil's place, causing Kazuya to glance to his side to see a familiar blonde figure looking at him in his reflection. _"Devil was wrong to try and use force to coax you into his way of thinking. It is proof that he is afraid of the man that you are becoming."_

"Of course," Kazuya replied as he folded his arms and turned back to his own reflection, smiling at what he saw. "Everyone is afraid of me, because they cannot possibly understand what I am trying to accomplish. Confusion leads to fear, and it is that fear that allows me to do the things that I do. Now that my father is gone, I am not afraid of anything, and that means that I do not have to weigh the options set forth by those ruled by the 'fight or flight' instinct."

"_Everyone is afraid of something, Kazuya," _the entity known as 'Angel' explained as she walked over behind Kazuya and peered over his shoulder. _"You are the leader of the Mishima Zaibatsu, and yet you cannot show your face in public outside of the tournament due to fear of an assassin taking your life from behind. However, this is not a cowardly fear, but a healthy one: you realize that to ignore this fear would be to endanger your life. This is why it is important to have strong allies: so that they can act on your behalf."_

"That is why I have my personal guard," Kazuya responded knowingly, reaching into his pocket to pull out a small radio. "With this radio, I can access any one of my generals and command them to come to my position and protect me. They are my loyal servants, available at my beck and call: some of them have come to my side via money, and others from their own fear of having the power of Zaibatsu focused on them."

"_Having subordinates is not the same as having allies," _Angel explained, to which Kazuya raised an eybrow curiosity. Seeing that she had the young man's intention, the winged woman continued. _"When you defeated that masked wrestler King yesterday, you fulfilled his dream of raising money for his orphanage, even when you did not have to. It is that generosity that will inevitably drive others to you and willingly put their lives on the line for you so that you can once again go out in the open without fear of being assassinated. These acts of generosity lead to charisma, and charismatic leaders are the ones with the most lasting reigns."_

"…power is everything," Kazuya said after a few seconds pause, contemplating what the entity was telling him. "Without power, even the most charismatic leaders will not be given the chance to shine. Therefore, if I want to become the ruler of the world, I will need to exercise my power every chance I have. Promises of wealth and prestige to the masses can only take me so far, because in the end, a promise is only a few words. Power, on the other hand, is something that people will pay attention to. Once I throw the world into chaos, the masses will seek someone with power to lift them up from the ashes…and the most powerful of all will be myself, Kazuya Mishima."

"_Not all order is born from chaos," _Angel responded. _"It is true that war alerts people to the stagnation that exists within society, but sometimes all that is required to bring about change is an isolated conflict. Instead of bringing about the deaths of millions of people, a joust between two individuals, be a physical one or a political one, will draw the attention of those around them."_

"'A joust between two individuals,'" Kazuya repeated before letting out an amused scoff. "Hmph! Are you referring to the tournament?"

"_The King of Iron Fist tournament is a stage like no other: whoever emerges victorious will be hailed as the strongest in the world," _Angel explained further, causing Kazuya to stroke his chin in deep thought as the winged woman's words began to make sense. _"People will listen to that victor, and take his words as gospel. It will not be a case of simple reciprocity that drives them, like your subordinates and employees, but faith in their new champion. Power is everything…but why should you have to squander your power on engulfing the world in chaos when it is so much more effective when used as a rite of passage?"_

"Hmmm…I did not think of it that way," Kazuya slowly nodded his head in agreement as a smile formed on his face. "If I used my title as the world's strongest as opposed to my title as the leader of the Zaibatsu, I won't have to instill fear into the hearts of mankind: they will fear and respect me without my coaxing. Not only will I have the most powerful company in the world, but world will choose me as its new leader, and I won't even have to do so much as shoot a bird out of the sky."

"_Why are you listening to her? Are you going soft on me, Kazuya?" _ Devil's voice suddenly intervened, appeared next to Kazuya within the reflective glass of the window. _"Power is power: it makes no difference how it is acquired. What Angel suggests would make you appear soft and weak: people will try and take advantage of you. If you strike first, then everyone will give the fear and respect that you so crave…because no one will dare rise up against you, for fear of being struck down themselves."_

"You stay out of this," Kazuya snapped back at Devil. "Just moments ago you tried to take control of my body by force. Until you remember that our agreement is one that is meant to be mutually beneficial, I expect you to keep your mouth shut unless you have something worthwhile to say. Are we clear on that…partner?"

Before Devil could answer, the intercom in Kazuya's office buzzed before giving way to his adopted brother's voice. "Nii-san, one of the tournament semifinalists has accepted your invitation, and is waiting in the lobby," Lee said over the intercom, causing Kazuya to turn away from the window and straighten out his tuxedo. "Should I escort her up to your room, or should I wait to see if the other two competitors arrive?"

"I told all three of the remaining competitors not to be late: if they haven't shown up yet, then it is their loss," Kazuya responded as he walked over to the wine cooler and pulled out a bottle of champagne. "Accompany her to my office, and then return to your post. If the other invited guests arrive, tell them that they should have been more time-efficient and they will have a chance to redeem themselves tomorrow when the tournament resumes."

---------

_Two minutes later…_

"I must say, Madam Kazama, you look absolutely ravishing this evening," the silver-haired playboy said with a smile as he picked up Jun's hand and gently kissed it. "If you were able to overcome Anna and Master Wang, then you must be a woman of the highest caliber. It is a supreme honor to come face-to-face with a fighting goddess like you…"

"Please, sir: there's no need to use flattery," Jun said as she looked at her formal white night dress from her reflection in the glass elevator, watching as the many floors of the Zaibatsu tower passed her by. "I only defeated those two because I needed to come face-to-face with your brother. I have reason to believe that he might be involved in illegal animal trafficking and experimentation, and would like to know if there are truth to those rumors."

"Those rumors are indeed correct, my dear," Lee replied with his smile dwindling slightly. "Kazuya has taken an interest in animals because he believes their biological structure can help him take over the world. Unfortunately for him and fortunately for us, he has yet to create anything that you would see in a science-fiction show: most of the time, he donates the animals he brings over to the local zoo."

"Interesting," Jun responded as she reached into her purse to pull out a pad and pen. "What happens the rest of the time, for the animals that he decides to keep?"

"Well, if I am going to tell you, I would prefer you not write it down," Lee gently snatched the pad away from Jun and put it in the jacket pocket of his black tuxedo. "My brother values his privacy about everything else: there are so many people who would like nothing more than to see him shot dead, so he keeps this sort of thing between himself and myself. If word of his activities got out, he would immediately know who was to blame."

"It is my duty as a WWWC officer to expose the truth," Jun explained as she reached for the pad, only for Lee to pull it out of his pocket and hold it up higher so that she couldn't reach it. Realizing that she wasn't going to get the pad back, Jun let out a sigh and decided to rely on her memory. "Tell me, Lee: what happens the rest of the time for the animals?"

"From what my brother tells me, there have been two successful experiments involving the animal solider program," Lee said with a victorious grin on his face, putting the pad back in his pocket. "The first success came about with splicing kangaroo DNA: we now have a kangaroo that is as smart and as strong as a full-grown human being in peak physical condition. I have seen a video tape of this kangaroo lift a man off his feet and hurl him away with a Giant Swing: I don't know who taught Roger how to do that, but I have to admit it's-"

"'Roger?'" Jun interrupted, confused by the term.

"Roger is what we named the kangaroo." Lee answered proudly before clearing his throat and continuing. "The second success was achieved when we cloned a dinosaur from the DNA of insects trapped in amber, and then filled in the missing DNA strands with that of Roger. As a result, we now have a raptor in our vicinity!"

"Are you serious!?" Jun gasped as what Lee told her registered. "Do you have any idea how much of a catastrophe that can be, having a carnivorous dinosaur roam about!? You have to tell me where this dinosaur is: if we don't put an end to this madness, then-"

"Oh, don't worry about it," Lee responded nonchalantly, flapping his hands in Jun's direction as if to say "pish-posh" to her worrisome demeanor. "Alex is perfectly docile, except to strangers who he doesn't recognize. At first we worried that Alex was going to try and eat Roger the first time they saw each other, but they actually wound up becoming friends, like two pets that live in the same home. Besides, we wound up exhausting any useful genetic material from the amber, so until we can get some more, there won't be any more Alexs."

"I should certainly hope not," Jun said after breathing a sigh of relief.

Before either of them could continue the conversation, the elevator let out a ding to signal that they had arrived on Kazuya's floor. The door opened to reveal a moderately-lit room, and Jun stepped out of the elevator and bowed politely to Lee. "Thank you for escorting me, Lee," she said with a polite smile. "I hope to see you again soon."

"The feeling is mutual, my dear," Lee said before blowing a kiss to the young woman and waving goodbye. "Just be wary of my brother: he might bite."

As soon as the door closed, Jun turned back around and almost jumped out of her skin as she felt an immense amount of spiritual energy overcome her. _What is this feeling?, _Jun thought as she slowly stepped further into the room, looking around to see where her host was hiding. _It's as if I've just stepped into another dimension: the spiritual energy coming from this room is stifling!_

"So, you must be my guest," a deep voice called out to Jun, causing her to turn to her left to see a familiar Japanese young man wearing a purple tuxedo with his black hair slicked back to a point. "At first I was worried that my guest was going to be someone like that idiot Paul Phoenix, who probably hasn't taken a shower since he came here. I am pleased to see that I was incorrect." With a grin on his face, Kazuya put one arm behind his back and his other arm in front of him and bowed. "I am Kazuya Mishima, the host of this tournament that you have proven your worth in. Tell me your name, miss: you have earned the right to do so."

_I can sense it: the spirits that surround him, _Jun thought as she looked at the images that she saw hovering above the man. Although she maintained her composure, the young woman was astonished by what she was witnessing. To Kazuya's left was yellow-horned purple demon that bore a passing resemblance to its host with red eyes, including a third one on his forehead. To Kazuya's right was a blonde blue-eyed woman in shimmering white robes and a hearth in her hair: a decisively different entity from the one opposite of her. _Kazuya is possessed by not one, but two spirits! Remarkable! _

"My name is Jun Kazama," Jun returned Kazuya's bow with one of her own before the both of them returned upright. "I have entered this tournament because I wanted to have an audience with you. Now that I have done so, my purpose in this tournament has just about ended."

"Is that right?" Kazuya asked with a raised eyebrow as he walked over to the champagne bottle sitting on his coffee table and poured a sample of its contents into a small glass. "There are many people in this tournament who have sought an audience with me: most of them do so with the intent of causing me harm. If you are one of those people, then I would ask that you wait until the tournament resumes. I don't want to ruin my office with your blood: it takes a great deal of effort to remove the stains."

"I am not here to hurt you, Kazuya," Jun reassured her host as she sat down at the coffee table Kazuya was sitting at. "I have come here under the orders of the WWWC to investigate possible illegal animal trafficking that the Zaibatsu may be instigating. If you are cooperative with this investigation, then I will see to it that any charges directed to the Zaibatsu are minimal, if existent at all." Watching Kazuya take a sip of his champagne, the young woman took deep breath and prepared what she prayed to be a peaceful meeting. "Will you please help me, Kazuya?"

"_There is something I do not like about this woman," _the purple demon whispered to Kazuya, which did not escape Jun's attention. _"She must know about the animal soldier program, and must therefore not be allowed to leave this place alive. If you attack her now, she will be too surprised to defend herself, and snapping her neck would be quite easy."_

"Perhaps if you did not whisper so loud, that tactic that might have worked," Jun interrupted, causing Kazuya to widen his eyes in surprise. "Kazuya, I do not want this meeting to devolve into violence: you have said that you wish to save the fighting for the tournament, but if you attack me, I will defend myself any way I can even if it means hurting you."

"…so you can actually see him?" Kazuya asked in disbelief, to which Jun nodded her head. "Clearly you are not an ordinary woman: how is it that you can see something that should not be seen by anyone but myself? Perhaps you too possess a supernatural entity that gives you advice and strength: it would explain how you've managed to advance so far in my tournament despite this being your first."

"My power from training, and a skill that all people of my family possess to varying extents: the power to see spirits," Jun explained calmly. "As a Kazama, it is my duty to eradicate evil wherever it may roam, and that is something else that led me to this tournament. However, now that I have seen the supernatural spirits that surround you, I can see that you are not the evil that needs to be eradicated."

"And how did you come to this conclusion?" Kazuya questioned with his aura of calm returning, pouring a second glass of champagne and handing it to Jun. "I admit to being what you so-called warriors of justice describe as 'evil,' because the very nature of evil is to be self-serving." Taking another sip of his own cup of champagne, Kazuya stood up from his seat and walked over to the window. "It is my goal to one day rule the world: I have already seized most of Hokkaido to prepare for my first campaign."

"Is that what you truly want, Kazuya," Jun stood up from her coffee table, leaving her glass of champagne behind as she walked up next to the Cold-Blooded Prince, "or is this what that Devil that is hovering over you telling you what you want? As a Mishima, you possess a bloodline that has been privy to countless warriors: why would you taint it with a foreign power like the Devil?"

"Do not talk to me like you know what I've had to go through all of these years," Kazuya growled as he glanced over to Devil. "When I was but five years old, my father decided to toss me off of a cliff just to see if I would climb back up. As I felt my lifeblood draining from my chest, this spirit approached me and offered me a deal: become his host body so that I could one day exact my revenge, or die before I even had the chance to live a life. The answer was plainly obvious, and I chose to allow the evil spirit to enter my body so that I could survive."

"How dreadful," Jun bit her lip as she heard her host's tale. "Master Wang told me about your harsh upbringing and training regimens, but I never imagined that Heihachi would go so far as to toss you off a cliff. I am sorry that you had to go through such a terrible experience…but do you not think that you have done enough for Devil?"

"What do you mean by that?" Kazuya asked with a raised eyebrow, turning his head completely to face the young woman next to him.

"At the conclusion of the previous tournament, you defeated Heihachi and took his place as the leader of the Zaibatsu: I think that is as good of a punishment as any. You desired revenge, and you took it: Devil's purpose expired as a result," Jun looked away from Kazuya and at the Devil that hovered above him. "Despite that, he still lingers around you, imposing his will on you like he is your master: I can tell just by looking at you that you are not one to follow another's will."

"Hmph! You sound as if there is an alternative," Kazuya scoffed as he quickly turned his head away from Jun and back towards the window. "Devil has been with me for a very long time. There are times when he is demanding, and other times when he is downright a bother, but he has been a constant presence in my life and I see little reason for me to abandon him and the power that he grants me…the power to smite any enemy that stands before me, even one as powerful as my father."

_He doesn't know that his father is still alive, _Jun thought as she followed Kazuya's gaze to the city lights below. _I would have liked to avoid leaving him in the dark about Heihachi's existence, but I must first convince Kazuya that he must get rid of Devil: otherwise he will once again call upon the demon to strike down Heihachi and more blood will be spilled. _

"Early in the tournament, you said that everyone would fight each other without knowing their opponent, including yourself," Jun said after a brief pause, looking down at the identification pin on her dress. "As the tournament head, you could have given yourself an unfair advantage with the identity of the competitors, but you refrained from doing so out of fairness. However, every time you fight, you have the power of the Devil flowing through your fists…and possibly that second spirit that has so far remained silent. For all of his flaws, Heihachi Mishima never relied on anyone but himself in combat: if you wish to surpass him, would it not be best for you to abandon the foreign powers and fight as yourself?"

"_Listen to her words, Kazuya," _the angelic spirit finally spoke, gracing Jun with her heavenly voice and tone. _"This woman wants to help you: a true warrior only relies on the powers that come from within, and not from without. If you follow her lead, then you will emerge as Kazuya Mishima, the rightful King of Iron Fists whose fists are pure and untamed, as opposed to Kazuya Mishima, the man who follows the will of demons to assist in his battles."_

"…you intrigue me, Jun Kazama," Kazuya said as he turned away from the window and walked over to the coffee table to finish off his glass of champagne. "What is it that you would like me to do for you, in return for giving me such an interesting conversation?"

"I would like for you to abandon the animal soldier program that I have been hearing about," Jun requested as politely as she could, bowing her head. "It would make my life much easier if I did not have to worry about the Zaibatsu smuggling and experimenting on animals. Furthermore, it would save us both the trouble of me writing up a warrant for your arrest."

Kazuya was silent for a moment, rubbing his chin as he contemplated what to do next. When he finally came to a conclusion, Kazuya pressed a button underneath the coffee table. _"What are you doing, you fool?" _Devil demanded as Kazuya tapped his foot waiting for the response he was looking for. _"Are you just going to give it to her, just because you listened to her rambling!? Have you lost your mind!?"_

"Yes, Nii-san?"

Ignoring Devil's voice and instead focusing on his brother's voice, Kazuya gave his decree. "Lee, I would like you to shut down the animal soldier project. Transfer everyone assigned to the project to other departments that they would excel at based on their resumes. I expect this to be done by 1800 hours tomorrow."

"…are you feeling alright, Kazuya?" Lee's voice responded, obviously confused. "Have you been drinking too much champagne?"

"Are you questioning me!?" Kazuya roared.

"N-no, Nii-san," Lee stammered before fading out with a "skirt." "I'll get on it right away!"

"_YOU IDIOT," _Devil screamed as he suddenly plunged his ethereal body into Kazuya. _"This woman is obviously playing tricks with you! If you will not do what needs to be done, then I will!" _ The young man roared in pain as he clutched his chest, trying in vain to alleviate the internal pain that Devil was causing him. Unfortunately for him, it was much too late: his "partner" had already taken full control of his body, and modifying it to his liking.

Jun watched with astonished eyes as Kazuya's skin changed color from light tan to deep violent, which large leathery wings burst from his tuxedo along with a pointed tail. "Kazuya, you are stronger than this," Jun called out to the Cold-Blooded Prince as his eyes became fiery red and a third eye opened up in his forehead while yellow horns sprouted from his temples. "Do not let him take you so easily!"

"It is too much too late for that, woman," Devil roared as he completed his host body's transformation and turned to Jun. "Tournament be damned: I shall take your life here and now! When Kazuya regains consciousness, he will see your dead body and realize that you were not worth our time." Charging his purple electric-like ki, Devil lifted his fist and prepared to punch her head clear off of her shoulders. "Enjoy your stay in the afterlife!"

Most anyone else at that point would have tried to run away, or at least put up their arms to try and defend themselves. However, Jun was not most people: although she was only twenty-two years old, she had seen things that would make lesser men and women vomit in horror. She looked at demon that stood before her not with eyes of fear, but of determination. _No matter what, I will not be afraid of the evil that I am trying to fight, _Jun told herself as she saw Devil's fist come at her. _To be afraid of evil is to respect it, and evil is something to be destroyed, not revered._

Just when it seemed like Devil's fist would smash her head, the demon suddenly stopped mere inches away from Jun's face. "You do not run, you do not flinch…you do not even blink," the demon growled as Angel looked on, not saying a word. "Why are you acting so fearless, when any sane creature would run away, never to return?"

"…because I want to help you," Jun whispered, reaching out and placing a hand on the demon's cheek. When she did so, the demon suddenly began reverting back to the man he was before: his wings and horns retracted into his back, his forehead closed back up and his eyes returned to a normal color, and his skin pigmentation returned.

Once the Devil spirit was forcefully ejected out of Kazuya's body, the demon once again protested. _"Let me back in, Kazuya! She is a threat to us all: left unchecked, she could ruin our plans!"_

"No…she knows something that I don't," Kazuya retorted as he pulled his arm back, only to suddenly become light-headed and stumble forwards. Lifting her hands to catch Kazuya, Jun prevented the young man from falling down. Shaking his head from the dizziness, Kazuya turned to Jun and gazed into her eyes, allowing himself a smile as he leaned in for a closer look. "You have strong eyes: if I did not see those eyes, I probably would have made your head explode."

"…you also have strong eyes…Kazuya," Jun whispered, feeling herself drawn closer to Kazuya's face as she closed her eyes. "You're…quite strapping, in fact…"

"_Jun! What are you doing!?"_

Hearing her father's voice, Jun's eyes shot open and she realized what she was doing. Pushing herself away from Kazuya, the young woman put her hand to her heart to feel it racing. _"What the hell is wrong is you? Not even a minute ago this guy was going to punch your head off, and now you're being all lovey-dovey with him? What has gotten into you!?"_

"I…I am sorry, Kazuya," Jun said after a moment's pause before walking over to the elevator. "I must be going now: please forgive me for overstepping my boundaries and invading your privacy like that."

"It is no trouble at all," Kazuya replied as he looked down and grimaced at his ruined tuxedo. "You have given me much to reflect on. I shall think more about what you have told me as I prepare for tomorrow's big day. I am certain that our paths will cross again…and when that happens, we will see just which one of us is the more complete warrior."

"I look forward to it," Jun said as she entered the elevator door and turned around to bow to Kazuya once again. "Thank you for your time and cooperation, Kazuya, and may fate smile on us both come tomorrow when we have our respective battles." As soon as the elevator door closed, however, Jun's demeanor changed as she once again put her hand to her chest. "My heart is still pounding," she whispered to herself as she once again thought back to the moment where Kazuya was in her arms. "My father is right: what in the world came over me back there?"


	12. Semifinal: Heihachi vs Paul?

Paul Phoenix was no stranger to being stuck in traffic.

Hailing from one of the most populated cities on the West Coast of the United States, the martial artist often found himself in bumper-to-bumper situations that even his trusty motorcycle couldn't maneuver its way out of. Sometimes the traffic jams were caused by accidents that happened further up the road, other times because of road construction, and other times due to the sheer number of cars on the road at a specific time. Frustrated with not being able to go wherever they want to go at their leisure, drivers caught in these traffic jams would honk their horn or curse in the comfort of their cars. Paul, on the other hand, would just turn on the radio and enter his own little world, being that whenever he drove, it was at his own convenience and for the love of the rove.

On this late afternoon in the mind-numbingly busy highways of Tokyo, however, the blonde American was beginning to discover the wonders of venting his frustrations verbally. Due to him oversleeping thanks to a late-night training binge, Paul woke up to the sound of his identification pin harshly telling him the time and location of his next fight. Upon receiving the information, Paul leisurely went through his usual morning breakfast and training regimen, thinking that he would have plenty of time to get there. He found it peculiar that Marshall did not wish to go with him and watch his fight, instead wanting to keep in touch with Paul via a headset radio, but he didn't think too much about it.

Once he got on the road, Paul figured out why Marshall was so hesitant to go with him. While the location was not particularly far in terms of actual distance, it was situated in a part of the city that was notorious for its traffic jams and congestion, especially at the hour chosen for his fight. As soon as he left his hotel and pulled onto the freeway, he entered a mass of metal and gasoline fumes that moved about as fast as molasses falling from its bottle. Every minute that passed by only made Paul move a few meters, bringing him a little bit closer to the fight, and closer still to being disqualified due to being late.

"Come on, come on," Paul begged to no one in particular as he looked at his watch to see that he only had twenty minutes left to arrive at a location that was fifteen minutes away in a traffic-free zone. "Can't you people go any faster? What the hell is holding you people up, anyway!?" Pressing a button on his headset radio and waiting to hear the static that notified him that it was on, Paul turned a knob over his head until he heard the familiar sound of silence. "Hey, Marshall, how is finding that map coming along? Isn't there an alternative way I can get there?"

"Sorry, old friend," Marshall's voice apologized. "Every map I'm looking at tells me that the fastest way to get there would have been the freeway you're on now. If you got off at the next exit, which is about three miles away from you, it would take you about twenty additional minutes to get to the fight location. From what you've described the traffic to be like, it sounds like you're going to be stuck there unless the miraculous happens."

"That's not the answer I wanted to hear," Paul groaned, smacking his palm against his face in exasperation. "The right to face that bastard Kazuya is right in front of me, and I'm going to lose it because of this stupid traffic jam! Why can't these people learn to use what they have: not only do they have a subway system to take them across the city, but they have bullet trains, too! Why are there so many cars despite that!?"

"Tokyo is one of the largest cities in the world, Paul," Marshall explained as Paul started to become jittery waiting for any type of productive movement. "There aren't just people living in the city on that highway, but people from the surrounding communities, as well. On top of that, you're on the busiest freeway in the city, and possibly in the entire world. The fact that there's a hugely-publicized tournament going on doesn't help matters, either…."

"Well, turn on the TV and keep an eye out for any traffic reports," Paul commanded before being honked at from the car behind him. Turning around and shaking his fist angrily, the young man went back to his conversation with Marshall. "If you hear anything involving this part of the highway I'm on, let me know. It's better than just sitting here on my butt watching as the minutes tick by and bringing me closer to disqualification!"

"Paul, please calm down," Marshall responded, taking note of the anger in Paul's voice. "Getting upset about it isn't going to make it better. If you throw a fit, all you'll do is cause a scene and make the situation worse." Clearing his throat before continuing, Marshall offered an alternative to freaking out. "While I look for any news reports on the traffic clog, how about we talk about what you're going to do when you win the tournament?"

"Well, first I'm going to find Nina and get that date she promised me," Paul replied with a grin as he took his mind off of the traffic. "I'll take her on a worldwide tour of the biggest cities in the world with all of the best fighters and we'll have our date via beating the tar out of anyone who dares challenge us. Hell, I'll have so much money, I'll be able to take you and your family along with me!"

"I look forward to it," Marshall answered. "How about after all that is done? Are you going to pop the question to her or something like that?"

"What, are you kidding me?" Paul asked, surprised by Marshall's question. "Spousal fights would be an absolute nightmare with that lady: she'll go right for the nuts, and then make me pass out with those crazy holds she has. It would be kinky at first, but afterwards it would become a pain!" Clearing his throat as he heard Marshall's amused laughter, Paul continued. "No, after that I think I'm going to start a dojo of my own. People are going to want to train with the best and pay top-dollar for it, and I won't have anything left to prove after I win, so why not?"

"It sounds like you've got it all figured out," Marshall replied as Paul smiled proudly at his plans for the future. "Hopefully when you become rich and famous, you'll still have enough time to step down from your pedestal and visit my family. I'll be more than happy to make you my soon-to-be-world-famous dim sum!"

"Don't worry, old buddy: I won't forget what I came from," Paul assured his friend while he looked up to see that he could drive up a few more meters up the road, bringing him just a little bit closer to his semifinal battle. "No matter how much all of that money will distract me with all of the good food, hot girls, and awesome parties that'll come with it…I'll always be your pal, and I'll always be a fighter!"

"I'm glad to hear-…hey, Paul," Marshall trailed off and called out to his friend, causing Paul's smile to disappear and his eyes to widen in anticipation. "There was a car crash a couple of hundred meters up ahead. The TV is saying that the road crews are having trouble getting their equipment over to move it due to the heavy traffic. I think taking the next exit might be the best option, after all."

"How big is the car?" Paul asked as he suddenly pulled over onto the side of the highway and began driving down its narrow path.

"Looks like one of those compact Japanese cars that have the really good gas mileage," Marshall replied nonchalantly. After a brief pause, the Chinese-American's tone of voice changed from calm to concerned. "Hey, Paul, what is that rumbling sound I hear in the background…are you driving up the side of the road again? What if a cop pulls you over? Get back on the road and go for that exit!"

"No can do, buddy," Paul replied as he saw the police cars in front of him, along with a car that looked as if someone had dropkicked it in its face. "There are people here who want to get out of this traffic jam just as badly as I do! It's my duty as a warrior to make sure that they don't wait any longer! How can I turn my backs on all of these people in the same boat that I am!"

"No, you're just being impatient," Marshall protested. "Get back on the road right now before-"

"Sorry, Marshall: talk to you after my match," Paul interrupted before turning the radio off. Finally pulling up to the scene of the crash, Paul parked his motorcycle and approached the nearest police officer: an Asian man wearing a white shirt and black suspenders with a deep tan and his black hair going down to his neck. Tapping the man on the shoulder, Paul's eyes widened in surprise as the officer turned around and showed his full face for Paul to see. "Hey, I know you: weren't you competing in the tournament this week!"

"Um, yes," the man nodded his head before outstretching his hand. "I'm Detective Lei Wulong of Interpol, and you're Paul Phoenix." Looking over Paul's shoulder to see his motorcycle parked, Lei's voice suddenly switched from friendly to authoritative. "Mr. Phoenix, I have to ask that you remove your motorcycle from the curb and return to the road. A road maintenance vehicle is driving down that side as we speak and with your motorcycle parked there, you'll just be holding it up."

"I'll move it as soon as that other car is moved," Paul responded as he pointed to the small silver car with its grill crushed inward. Cracking his knuckles and walking towards it, the American shooed away the other people surrounding the vehicle before standing in at its side and planting his feet. Once there, he inhaled and exhaled deeply and closed his eyes as if to enter a deep trance.

"What are you doing?" Lei asked as Paul suddenly opened his eyes and puts his hands on the door of the car. "That car isn't going to move until the maintenance vehicle gets here, and for that to happen, you need to move your-"

*UUUNK*

To the astonishment of everyone watching, with the exception of the man doing the work, Paul grit his teeth as he somehow began pushing the car towards the side of the road. "Ughhhhhh…can't let this stop me," Paul said with a strained voice as he continued making progress, gradually pushing the car aside despite how the wheels were only acting against him due to how they were positioned. "I've got a tournament to win…if I let this car stop me, then I might as well quit here and now."

"That is incredible," Lei whispered as he watched his fellow King of Iron Fist competitor push a car across the road using nothing but his bare hands. "It's a good thing I didn't run into this guy in the tournament: I don't think even my handcuffs would have been able to hold this guy." Walking over to where Paul was pushing the car, Lei joined the American in his Herculean effort and pushed along with him. "S-sorry that I asked you to pull over like that," Lei said with the strain on his voice evident thanks to pushing the heavy vehicle alongside Paul. "I guess I shouldn't have underestimated the power of the martial arts!"

"Yeah….UGH," Paul grunted as he finished his task, planting the car right next to the highway divider and dusting off his hands. "I guest you shouldn't have underestimated the power of the marital arts. Maybe if you come on over to my place, I can teach you how to push cars just like this." Giving the policeman a pat on the back, Paul ran over to his motorcycle and revved the motor. "Now, tell these cars to get moving so that I can get moving!"

As soon as he got back onto the road, Paul smiled when he saw the cars move at a more reasonable rate: slowly at first, but after three minutes the congestion cleared up and the cars once again returned to moving at a more reasonable rate for a freeway. "Now that's what I'm talking about," Paul said with a smile as he happily sped up after what seemed like an eternity of waiting. "Now to see how much time I've got left until I have to be at the…fight…CRAP!"

Upon looking at his watch, Paul's smile vanished as he eyes widened in horror: he now had only ten minutes left to arrive at the designated fight location when it would take him thirteen minutes to get there. Revving his motor up, Paul accelerated as fast as he could, hoping and praying that he wouldn't get pulled over. "Come on, baby," Paul begged his motorcycle as they sped along the highway. "Don't fail me now…DON'T FAIL ME NOW!"

-----------

_Fourteen minutes later…_

"How much longer do I have to wait?" Heihachi grumbled as he tapped his foot impatiently, turning to his limousine driver who had accompanied him to the designated fight location. "I have been standing here for almost a full hour. My fists are beginning to grow restless: as a Mishima, the least I expect from my opponents is the decency to show up to our match on time!"

"According to my watch, he still has one more minute left until his grace period expired," the limousine driver looked down at his wrist to check the time before cracking a confident smile. "I thought you would be happy, sir. Now you do not have to expend your energy fighting your opponent and you can go straight to the final round fresh and well-rested!"

"Hmph! That would be a coward's victory," the elder karateka scoffed at the notion, looking down at his fist and lifting to his face. "I must prove to myself that I am still worthy of carrying the title 'King of the Iron Fists,' and to do so I must crush anyone that stands in my way." Once he lowered his fist, Heihachi turned around to see the city far below him move around with life. "Perhaps that is just me being old-fashioned, but as a warrior I thrive on the feeling of working for my victories. However, if I must be forced to suffer a technical one, so be it."

Being that the designated fight location was atop of a large hill that oversaw most of the city, Heihachi had expected both himself and his opponent to have an easy time finding it. For whatever reason, however, Heihachi's opponent had yet to arrive. Perhaps it was an inability to manage time that kept Heihachi away from his foe, or even simple incompetence. The fact remained that Heihachi Mishima was about to advance through the tournament much easier than he would have preferred.

"Thirty more seconds, Heihachi," the driver reminded the martial arts master. "It looks like we'll be able to get out of here in time to have a relaxing dinner. Perhaps we can get Kuma a treat on our way back: I know how much you love making that bear happy. We can celebrate your victory together."

"I suppose," Heihachi said with a sigh before turning around and heading to his limousine. "Let's get ready to leave. If my opponent hasn't shown up now, then he will not show up at-…" Heihachi's voice trailed off as he looked westward, sensing a considerably powerful ki signature heading his way. "Hmph, so he finally arrives," Heihachi scoffed as he turned to the direction he sensed the energy and crossed his arms. "It is a pity that he has arrived too little, too late."

"Fifteen seconds," the limo driver pointed out as he and Heihachi watched a man with distinct blonde hair drive into view and hastily park his motorcycle. "Fourteen, thirteen, twelve, eleven, ten…"

"H-hold up," the man's voice shouted as he ran as fast as he could, hoping to catch up with Heihachi. "Hold up, goddamnit! Paul Phoenix has to kick your ass so that I can-"

"Three, two, one!"

As soon as Paul stopped running to put up his fists, the pin situated on his leather jacket exploded in a mess of circuitry and smoke, startling him and causing him to jump. "What the hell?" he said out loud as he looked at the smoking nub that used to be his identification pin. "What happened to my identification pin? The fight hasn't even started yet, and yet it just exploded on me like I lost or something!"

"You are late," Heihachi said harshly as he stepped away from the limousine and folded his arms. "I have been waiting here for over an hour, waiting for you to arrive so that I can move on in the tournament. Unfortunately for the both of us, I will have to conserve my fighting spirit until the final match tomorrow: not only did you not arrive on time, but your five minute grace period expired. Next time, try being more time-efficient so that you won't-"

"No," Paul said quietly, repeating the word over and over getting louder each time while shaking his head. "No, no, no, no, NO!" Lifting his fist and charging Heihachi, the American let out an angered shout as he went for broke. "I'm not going to accept that! I'll kick your ass right now that I can go on to the finals and face Kazuya just like I'm supposed to!"

Without even unfolding his arms, Heihachi stepped to the side and extended his foot, causing Paul to trip over it and stumble forwards. Flailing his arms wildly to keep balance, the American barely kept himself from falling over the edge of the hill and rolling down several feets of dirt and rocks. "Don't waste your time," Heihachi said as Paul turned his head around to glare at him. "As much as I would have liked to trade fists with you, the tournament rules are quite clear about fighting outside of designated areas. If I fought you, then I run the risk of losing my tournament spot."

"Then put your spot on the line," Paul spat back as he once again lifted his fists and charged Heihachi. Once he was within striking distance, the hot-blooded martial artist thrusted his palm forward and attacked to bring the older man down with a Rubber Band attack. This time, Heihachi lifted his arms to block the attack, and was pushed back a couple of inches from the impact. "There's a witness right there: it can me versus you, and whoever wins gets to go to the finals!"

"A tempting offer," Heihachi said with an amused smirk before rearing back his head, "but one that I shall deny!" Bringing his head forward, Heihachi gave Paul a devastating headbutt that knocked him off of his feet and onto his shoulders with his legs sticking up into the air. Before Paul could even lift his body off the ground, the former King of the Iron Fists planted his foot onto the young man's chest. "Since you are here, that means that Kazuya is fighting someone else in this tournament. I have no doubt in my mind that he shall emerge victorious, so I must be there to make sure that he falls!"

"I am so sick of hearing about that," Paul shouted as he grabbed onto Heihachi's foot and gave it a sharp twist to spin Heihachi onto his stomach. Standing back up with the foot still in tow, Paul twisted the old man's foot to place him in an ankle lock, waiting for the old man to scream in defeat. "It's always 'Mishima this' and 'Mishima that.' This tournament is supposed to decide the best of the best, not see which member of your family is crazier!"

"How can someone like you possibly understand?" Heihachi growled as he turned over onto his back and used his free foot to kick Paul away. Standing back up and dusting his karate gi off, the King of Iron Fists clenched his fists as he watched his would-be opponent stand back and assume his fighting stance. "You are only an outsider who seeks to prove yourself as the best in the world. How can you understand the burden that I must bear as a Mishima?"

"How the hell am I supposed to know?" Paul retorted. "From what I've seen, the Mishima Zaibatsu causes nothing but trouble. Everyone was afraid of you before the last tournament, saying that you were madman who wanted to bring an army to overthrow the world's governments and take over the planet. Then when Kazuya beat you, people thought they were safe…only for that bastard to bring a whole new wave of terror and make everyone mutter about stuff like nuclear Armageddon or worldwide fascism!" Lowering his fists just for a moment, Paul pointed an accusing finger at Heihachi. "What makes you Mishimas think that you can just do whatever the hell you please…and why do you have these tournaments if it's just so you guys can jack off to your egos!"

"…things were not always like that," Heihachi lowered his voice and folded his arms, preparing to explain his side of the story. "The Mishima bloodline has long been associated with powerful warriors, each generation becoming stronger than the next. Whether it be through the martial arts arena or the political one, our family has been a driving force in Japan's history. My father, Jinpachi, founded the Mishima Zaibatsu to ensure that our family would become an even greater force not just in Japan, but in the world…but his ideals were flawed."

"I can't imagine them being any crazier than what the current generation of you yahoos has come up with," Paul commented with his disdain none-too-subtle.

"My father was hailed as the strongest warrior of his time, but when you are the undisputed champion and there is no one to challenge you, you cannot help but become complacent," Heihachi continued, ignoring the young man's snide remark. "Rather than use the power of the Zaibatsu to make a true impact, he desired to make the Zaibatsu a charitable organization, freely donating supplies and money to those less fortunate than ourselves. While that would normally be an admirable ambition, he made the foolish decision to do it without any show of force. People willingly took advantage of the Zaibatsu's generosity and gave us nothing in return…and my father allowed this to happen, expecting the Zaibatsu's resources to be abundant enough for this sort of charity. Of course, he was wrong, and the Zaibatsu often found itself underfunded for its overambitious ideals."

"Let me guess," Paul interjected as he folded his arms. "I bet you and your dad didn't see eye-to-eye."

"I was able to assume control of the Zaibatsu, as a gift from my father," Heihachi rolled past Paul's observation, refusing to acknowledge how lightly the young man was taking the matter. "When I became its leader, I immediately knew what had to be done to save it. Using what was left of the Zaibatsu's wealth and combining it with my grand designs, I began to drive our ambitions towards military technology, simultaneously lessening our charity work. My father valued world peace, but he was much too soft to do what had to be done to achieve this goal. I believe one of your Presidents said 'speak softly and carry a big stick,' and it was my goal to carry the biggest stick of all to make sure that no tyrant or mad dictator would oppose me and my goal to a unified utopia. Unfortunately, my father had other ideas: he thought that my ideals were deluded and tainted with evil, and decided that something had to be done about me. He arranged a coup in an attempt to seize back control of the Zaibatsu…but I was not willingly to give it up. Something had to be done about him…"

"So you got rid of your own father?" Paul asked to confirm what Heihachi had said. "That is just sick, man!"

"I made sure that he would never be a threat to my Zaibatsu again, yes," Heihachi nodded his head. "By that time, I had already become a widow, so Kazuya was the only family I had left. Kazuya was very much like his grandfather and mother: peaceful and soft. This might have been acceptable for any other parent, but I expected Kazuya to succeed me as the head of the Zaibatsu, and there was no place for gentleness until the world was finally at peace. Rather than wait until Kazuya reached the same age I reached when I was first subjected to the more advanced stages of training, I subjected him to the harsher training regimens right after my father had been dealt with. I could not risk my son suffering from the same complacency that consumed my father: I wanted my son to be strong and firm, so that he could do what had to be done to bring the world at peace. I even went so far as to adopt a second son, Lee Chaolan, to remind Kazuya that there would be no hand-me-downs when it came to the Zaibatsu's leadership."

"Pfft! Yeah, and that turned out real well," Paul said with a scoff. "Your boy wound up becoming an even bigger asshole than you are…fun to trade fists with, though."

"Once Kazuya and Lee had completed their training, I opened the inaugural King of Iron Fist Tournament. The next generation was going to need strong warriors to defend the pride of the unified utopia that my son would create once he ruled the Zaibatsu, so the tournament was going to serve the purpose of discovering the most powerful martial artists in the world and deciding which of them would be worthy. When Kazuya succeeded in making it to the finals and challenged me, I was prepared to step down from the Zaibatsu and enjoy retirement as Kazuya led the world into a new tomorrow…but something happened that disqualified him in my eyes. He unveiled a power that he couldn't possibly have attained via training: he had literally sold his soul to a demon to become stronger, betraying my trust in him and taking me off-guard. After leaving me for dead, Kazuya seized control of the Zaibatsu just as my father had attempted to do. As I recovered from my injuries, I watched angrily as that treacherous whelp perverted my dreams of an utopia by leading the world into disarray." Heihachi clenched his fist in anger and held it up to his face while his body crackled with electricity. "I do not know why he has decided to hold this tournament: perhaps he simply wishes to prove his strength once again, or maybe it's for the same purpose I held mine in trying to find the strongest fighters in the world. What is clear to me, however, is that I must stop that whelp before he does irreparable harm to the world and drag the Zaibatsu's name into the mud even more than he already has! I shall beat him within an inch of his life, and then beat him some more: if he tries to cheat again, I'll make sure that NEVER fights again!"

"…listen, it sounds like you've got family issues," Paul said after a moment's pause, making sure that Heihachi was finished with his monologue. "I admit, I honestly had no idea what you were talking about up until you got to the part about the tournament…but what gives you the right to drag the rest of us fighters into your problems?"

"What do you mean by that?" Heihachi asked with a raised eyebrow.

"When I signed up for the first King of Iron Fist Tournament, it wasn't because I cared about becoming some soldier to usher in some new world order," Paul explained before pointing into the sky. "It was because of the promise that the best fighters in the world were going to be there! All my life, it's been my dream to become the number one fighter in the world, even better than my hero Willy Williams. It was a tournament of champions, to decide the champion of champions…and what better way to meet new people who shared my dream by facing them in battle?" Lowering his hand, Paul's voice lowered with seriousness. "That is what the King of Iron Fist tournament should be about. It shouldn't be about power plays and global domination: it should be about the gathering of the best of the best, to determine the who's the best at that given time. If you too are a fighter, then isn't that what you want, as well?"

"You speak with wisdom beyond your intelligence," Heihachi said with a smirk before turning around and walking towards his limousine. "Perhaps after all of this is over, I can make the King of Iron Fist Tournament more towards your liking, where it is the strong facing the strong and nothing more. Until then, you'll just have to wait until I win this tournament."

"What!? I sat through your story because I thought I would get a title shot out of it," Paul shouted as he charged Heihachi. "Come back here and fight me: if you won't do it for your spot, at least do it for pride!"

As soon as Heihachi turned around, he received a swift fist to the face that caused even him to stagger. Seeing that he had made a statement, Paul entered his fighting stance thinking that he finally coaxed Heihachi to fight him. The former King of the Iron Fists looked at Paul with eyes not of rage, but of amusement, with red blood dripping from his lip. "Nice punch," Heihachi said with a smile before walking over to Paul and giving him a pat on the back. "After the tournament is over, you are welcome to seek to me out. I am sure that it will be a great battle."

"But…but," Paul tried to find a counter to what Heihachi had said, but he couldn't find anything to say as Heihachi entered his limousine and drove off. It wasn't until a full thirty seconds after Heihachi had driven out of view that Paul lowered his fists and realized that he would not be advancing through the tournament like he had planned. "Goddamnit," he grumbled as he walked over to his motorcycle. "What am I going to tell Marshall?"


	13. Semifinal: Kazuya vs Jun

"So, this is Alex?" Jun asked as she looked at the strange green-skinned reptilian creature wearing blue boxing gloves pound away at a punching bag. "When I was told that you had a dinosaur in your midst, I was expecting to see some terrible beast that had no place in today's world. I never imagined that he would be a creature that, despite his appearances, seems…human."

"I admit, when Mr. Mishima commanded me to create Alex, I was sure that I would invite into this world a destructive power like no other," the balding elderly gentleman replied as he straightened his glasses. "Luckily, it seems that Alex became attached to the people in this laboratory in the same way a new hatchling has the first thing it sees imprinted in its brain as the parent. He gets along with humans just fine, provided one of us is there to assure him that any strangers that approach him are not threats." Letting out a sigh, the elderly man looked to Jun and frowned. "I am going to miss Alex: I do hope that the WWWC will be able to care for him."

"I will do my best to make sure that no one will bother him, Dr. Boskonovitch," Jun assured the elderly man, shaking his hand as he reached out to properly thank her. "It is the mission of my organization to make sure that the animals placed into our custody are put in an environment that best suits their natural habitat. There is a game reserve in Australia that should serve Alex's needs quite nicely, especially considering that it is a cold-blooded creature."

Thanks to some detective work, Jun was able to discover the facility where the two "successful animal soldiers" of the Mishima Zaibatsu resided in. Due to Kazuya Mishima's order to shut down the program, the fates of the two animal soldiers were left to uncertainty, and there was fear amongst the workers that they would have to be euthanized. This possibility did not escape the attention of the WWWC officer, and she set off for the mountainous region in which the facility was located in so that she could ensure the animals safety. Regardless of the sinful practices that led to their creation, no creature deserved to be killed outright for something that wasn't their fault.

_For some reason, I still haven't received notice from my identification pin in regards to my next fight, _Jun thought as she looked down at the clothes she had brought for the occasion of fighting: a teal short-sleeved gi with the crest of the Kazama-ryu school located on the arm, along with navy blue athletic shorts, black kneepads, and a white headband. _Sometime I have learned in this tournament is that fights are scheduled in the heat of the moment, usually around this time of day. I wonder if my encounter with 'Devil' caused Kazuya to disqualify me so that I would no longer be a potential target._

"_You're giving him way too much credit, Jun," _the young woman heard her father's voice say to her even as she tried to make conversation with the doctor that claimed to be the head of the facility. _"Now that you know Kazuya's story, you know that the path to evil had been forged for him at a very early age. At this point, the infection in his body has spread to his brain, and the only thing left to do now is to kill the root before the infection spreads to other people."_

_I will never accept that, _Jun thought back. _Kazuya Mishima is a sick man who needs to be treated, and I intend to become the catalyst that leads to him curing himself. If he was truly gone, then I would be standing here right now, for his other self would have struck me down. Instead, Kazuya held back the Devil within out of concern for my safety. He realizes that keeping the evil spirit is not within his best interest: all that remains now is for me to push onward so that we can expel that evil spirit forever._

"Tell me, doctor," Jun said out loud to the elderly gentleman next to her. "How did you come into the employ of Kazuya Mishima? Our WWWC documents regarding your work are sketchy, but word of mouth says that you are an expert from anything from robotics to cryogenics to biological research. What made you decide to come to the Mishima Zaibatsu?"

"I was kidnapped, plain and simple," Dr. Boskonovitch answered grimly. "The Zaibatsu's men raided my lab and dragged me to this facility where I first met Kazuya. He told me that if I did everything he said, then he would not only make me a very rich man, but spare my life. While the matter of money is of no consequence to me, I still have much I want to do in life before I pass on, so I accepted his ultimatum and became his head researcher."

"I see," Jun replied with a frown, reminding herself that the Kazuya she had met the night before was the same Kazuya that the doctor was describing. "What do you think of him now?"

"He is a very troubled young man, from what I understand," the doctor said as he and Jun walked out the door of the facility to the bright outdoors. "At times, he would treat me as little more than a slave, commanding me to do even the most inhumane things such as creates animals such as Alex and Roger. Other times he would ask for my professional opinion on matters such as which animals would be best suited for the animal soldier program and what would be the quickest way to the people's hearts, as if I was his advisor as opposed to his reluctant scientist. His behavior is erratic, so I have no idea how to approach him."

"That is very interesting," Jun turned her head to look at the wondrous view of the mountainside, thinking about the man of the moment. "When I first began my investigation, it was my intention to arrest Kazuya for his animal smuggling and have him answer for his crimes. Now that I have learned more about him, I see that arresting him would do nothing but delay his evil ambitions as opposed to stopping them. Therefore, I am trying for a different approach."

"And what approach might that be, Miss Kazama?"

"I am going to save his soul, by teaching him that right makes might, and not the other way around," Jun lifted her gloved hand and looked at the Kazama-ryu insignia on the back of it. "As a student of the Kazama-ryu Ancient-style Martial Arts dojo, I was taught to eradicate evil where it may roam. The more I advance through this tournament using these martial arts, however, the more aware I am becoming of the flaws in its philosophy. Destroying evil with violence is equivalent to fighting fire with fire: no real progress is made, and all it does is feed the inferno. I cannot force someone to change their way of thinking: it must be done voluntarily."

"It is a shame that there are many people in power that do not share your way of thinking," Dr. Boskonovitch said with a thin smile as he followed Jun's gaze to the blue-and-white mountainside. "Before working for the Zaibatsu, I was employed by the military in my Mother Russia. They sought out my services so that they could create a robotic soldier that could prevent our young men and women from losing their lives on the battlefield. With that promise of lessened bloodshed on my mind, I created the Jack unit: I'm sure you've seen at least one of them compete in the tournament."

"Of course," Jun nodded her head as she folded her arms. "The Jack unit was the topic of much controversy during the last tournament. When the Russian government said that they were going to have the robot sign up for the tournament, there was considerable debate on whether or not a robot should enter, because it would be the equivalent of having a cannon or some other weapon entering. For whatever reason, Heihachi allowed this, and the robot crippled many fighters during its run."

"My masters in the Kremlin programmed Jack for one purpose: to kill without remorse or restraint. The purpose it was entered into the first King of Iron Fist Tournament was to assassinate Kazuya, who was just beginning to organize his plans for world domination with only Heihachi standing in his way. After I was kidnapped by Kazuya, my leaders began tampering with my creations to make them even more genocidal," Dr. Boskonovitch pinched the side of his nose as he remembered the dark origin of his brainchild. "They began plunging the Jack unit into germ warfare, further perverting their promise to me that it would only be used as a protector of peace. At least with Kazuya, I know for sure why I am serving him, but with my leaders in the Kremlin I had no idea what to expect."

"Tyrants come and go," Jun responded to Dr. Boskonovitch's story. "Those possessed by their ambitions will try and set up a legacy that will last forever, but nothing is immune to the passage of time. It is those that follow the path of justice and righteousness that people will remember the best. That is why myths and legends revere the tales of heroes, rather than remember the tales of villains. Kazuya Mishima wants to make his mark on the world…but I suspect that he is beginning to realize that the power of evil is limited."

"You seem to have taken quite an interest in him," Dr. Boskonovitch replied with a smile, causing Jun to turn her head in his direction. "Are you only seeking Kazuya because it is your duty as an officer and a warrior…or do you want to help him for more personal responsibilities?"

"What are you insinuating, doctor?" Jun asked, her voice raised as if she were offended by the doctor's words. "Are you suggesting that I am helping Kazuya for purely selfish reasons?"

"I was young once, too," the doctor replied with his smile widening as he held up a golden engagement ring lodged onto his finger. "There was a woman that I became fascinated with, even going so far as to put aside my research so that I could spend time with her. Eventually, we were married, and we were able to have a child: a beautiful daughter." Dr. Boskonovitch's smile faded as he told the conclusion to the tale. "Sadly, my wife is gone, and my daughter is dying. That is another reason why I am working for the Zaibatsu: Kazuya has promised me the technology and resources needed to keep my daughter alive."

"I am sorry to hear that, but what does this have to do with me?"

"You desire to free Kazuya from the evil that possesses him," the doctor answered as he checked his watch. "You claim that by showing him the error of his ways, you can save the world without having to shed his blood. That is what your mind is telling you, but your heart is the one that is leading you along. You feel sympathy for Kazuya and it is that sympathy that draws you towards him…and perhaps something else, as well."

Dr. Boskonovitch's words called up memories of the night before, where Jun finally managed to meet Kazuya face-to-face. She had inklings of his background from his father Heihachi, but it wasn't until she learned the whole truth from the man himself that Jun truly felt obliged to save the young man. Kazuya could have said "enough" and kicked her out of his office at any time, and could have just as easily taken her off-guard and dealt her a severe blow. However, Kazuya allowed Jun to say what she wanted to say, and he listened intently.

Perhaps what stood out most in Jun's mind was the moment where Kazuya had fallen into her arms, telling her that she had strong eyes. The way he looked at Jun, with his eyes just as strong as hers, while being held up made the young woman's heart race and her cheeks redden. If not for her father's voice snapping her out of her trance, she was certain that something was going to happen that would either ruin her reputation as an honorably young lady or cement her as a saint that would teach Kazuya the meaning of affection.

"Are you alright, Miss Kazama?"

"Hm?" Jun snapped out of her trance and turned to the good doctor, who was now behind her standing next to a full-grown brown kangaroo wearing red boxing gloves. "I apologize, doctor: I have a lot on my mind, especially my upcoming semifinal fight. Is that the Roger that I have been hearing about?"

"Indeed…though I am curious as to why he is still here when I commanded that the program be shut down."

With both of their eyes widening in surprise, Jun and Dr. Boskonovitch turned their heads eastwards to see the man they had been talking about for the past several minutes: Kazuya Mishima, wearing not his purple tuxedo that he was often seen in public with, but with his white karate pants and trademark silver-studded red fingerless gloves. What caught Jun's attention the most was that the young man was now shirtless in front of her, revealing the large scar on his chest. _What a terrible wound: I can sense the hatred burning off of it, _Jun thought as Kazuya walked closer. _That must be the mark of being thrown off of a cliff: that scar serves as a constant reminder of the pain he felt at that time._

"Doctor Boskonovitch," Kazuya turned his head towards the doctor, who stood up at attention while Roger did the same. "I thought I gave the orders to have you transferred to the R & D division to look into possible uses for cryogenic technology. You had expressed interest in it before so that is why I made the move in the first place. With that being said…why are you still here at this facility?"

"I requested that the head of this facility remained here until I had the chance to meet with him," Jun interjected as she walked between Kazuya and the doctor. "Alex and Roger are animals of the highest rarity and must be kept away from the eyes of humans. I needed to speak with the doctor to transfer the responsibilities of the animals to the WWWC. I have prepared transport of the both of them so that they can be moved to game preserves where they can live in peace."

"…then there is no longer any point in him being here," Kazuya replied curtly, gently shoving Jun aside so that he could look into Dr. Boskonovitch's eyes. "There is a helicopter waiting for you three miles east of here, near my cabin that I use when I come here to oversee the project and train. If you wish to remain in my good graces, I suggest to you gather your belongings and drive over there…now."

"Y-yes sir," the doctor said with a stammer as he bowed his head and walked back towards the facility, with his kangaroo hopping alongside him. "I should be ready to leave within the next ten minutes…"

"…what are you doing here, Kazuya?" Jun asked as the Zaibatsu leader turned his head to face her.

"Tch! Isn't it obvious?" Kazuya said with a scoff as he assumed his fighting stance. "I am your opponent in this round: the other semifinal fight has already concluded, which means that all there is left is for the two of us to see which will advance to the final and which will fall."

"…I understand," Jun nodded her head once as she too assumed her fighting stance. "Tell me this, Kazuya: have you been thinking about what I told you last night? Are you ready to abandon Devil and cut the ties that you no longer have any obligation to obtain?"

"I have," Kazuya returned the nod with one of his own as he and Jun slowly circled one another to look for an opening. "The voices in my head and I had a long discussion about what you told me. Obviously, Devil was none too happy about sparing your life, but Angel seems to have taken quite a liking to you. I myself, however, am not completely sold yet. You are a mystery to me, and until I find a solution, I refuse to make a decision."

"Then tell me what I have to do to make you come to a conclusion," Jun said as Kazuya stopped sidestepped and charged her with his fists in front of him. Tossing a sharply-honed kick at Jun's head, the young woman lifted her arms and successfully blocked the attack, gazing into Kazuya's oak-brown eyes. "What do I have to do to make you understand my words?"

"As a martial artist, you already know the answer to that," Kazuya shot back as he jumped back to avoid Jun's retaliatory kick. "Prove to me that what you preach isn't just excuses for the weak to avoid battle. Justify your truth with your fists and take me down…that is, if you can!" Once again raising his fists, Kazuya charged the young woman and attempted to strike her with a spinning backfist. To his surprise, Jun not only defended herself from the attack, but reversed it by catching his hand and pulling him down to the ground onto his stomach before using her free hand to give him a swift punch to the side of his head.

Gently rubbing the side of his head as he stood back up, Kazuya lifted his head just in time to sway backwards and avoid a Crescent Kick. Being more cautious than the previous assault, Kazuya spun down low to connect with a sweeping kick, his Hellsweep, to disrupt Jun's footing. Before Jun could even fall onto her bottom, Kazuya spun around once again and struck her in the chest with a Slaughter Hook fist, knocking her away so that she spun around 180 degrees and landed on her stomach. Had it been any normal fighter, that combination of attacks would have caused them to stagger, but Jun quickly returned to her feet with no noticeable signs of damage.

Deciding to go down low herself, Jun reared her left hand back and swiped at Kazuya's leg just as he spun around for a standing roundhouse kick. Grabbing onto his ankle, Jun rolled forward and forced Kazuya down onto his back. "Regardless of what happened last night between us, I have no intention of holding back," Jun said coolly as she gave the ankle a sharp twist and caused her opponent to grit his teeth in pain. "Forgive me, Kazuya, but I can promise you that this is going to hurt."

"I…wouldn't have it any other way," Kazuya said with a smirk as he yanked his leg free of Jun's grasp and brought it forward to kick Jun away. With the two of them returning to their feet at the same time, Kazuya once again charged forward with his fists ready to strike. This time, his attack struck true as he delivered a pair of left-handed punches before bringing his right hand into Jun's sternum and sending her sliding across the grass with a Flash Punch combo.

Standing back up and resuming her fighting stance, Jun stopped Kazuya dead in his tracks with a sudden uppercut that knocked him off of his feet and into the air. Rather than allow Kazuya to fall down just by gravity, the young woman instead forced him back down to the ground by spinning around and striking him in mid-air with a vertical elbow smash. With power belying her small stature, Jun caused Kazuya to bounce slightly off the ground despite not falling very far, demonstrating just how much force that he fell to.

Instead of letting Kazuya stand back up, Jun lifted her legs and performed a cartwheel hoping to use rotational velocity to plant her shoe into Kazuya's chest. Not quite ready to get hit with such a maneuver, Kazuya rolled backwards and avoided the stomp, only to spring forward and strike Jun like a bowling pin using a pouncing cross chop. The idea of the attack was to bring Jun down so that he could stand back up, but the two fighters rolled with the attack and returned to their feet at the same time.

Tired of Kazuya striking first in every exchange, Jun tossed aside her inhibitions and decided to go on the offensive, striking Kazuya with a low kick followed by a spinning backfist. Not even willing to see if her opponent was blocking or not, Jun continued the assault with a forward palm thrust and a crescent kick. To her good fortune, Kazuya did not block the crescent kick and was thus knocked off of his feet and onto the ground. _So far, this isn't going as poorly as I imagined, _Jun thought as Kazuya pushed himself off the ground and wiped the spit from his mouth. _I'm actually doing quite well: can I really beat him?_

"…why are you hesitating?" Kazuya growled as he once again rapidly advanced towards Jun with long strides while keeping his fists in front of him. "You could have attacked while I was wiping the drool from my face. Pay attention!" As soon as he was within striking distance, Kazuya rose back up and struck Jun with his trademark standing uppercut that left a streak of his electric-like ki in its wake: his Electric Wind Godfist. Even though Jun managed to block, her body crackled with energy that didn't belong to her, causing her to clench her teeth in pain.

Seeing an opportunity to strike, Kazuya struck Jun in the stomach with a blow to the gut. Though it stopped the flow of electricity, it wasn't much of a consolation as the young woman was lifted off of her feet with the impact of the attack, only to be brought back down again with an elbow smash. As soon as Jun hit the ground, the Cold-Blooded Prince lifted his foot and prepared to deliver a punishing stomp to the young woman's chest.

Jun's eyes shot open just in time to put her hands in front of her and catch Kazuya's foot mere inches away from her heart. Using her self-defense training to its fullest, Jun stood back up and gave the foot a sharp twist to bring Kazuya onto his belly once again. Rather than simply use the foot as a means to keep Kazuya subdued, Jun instead twisted the foot, and indeed the entire leg, as hard as she could until she heard a loud popping sound. As a result, Kazuya roared in agony as used his feet leg to kick Jun off of him while he dragged himself back to his feet, still wincing from the hold that the young woman applied on him.

"Meddlesome woman," Kazuya growled as he moved his foot around only to wince again. Looking up to see Jun charging at him once again, the Cold-Blooded Prince lifted his left hand to swat Jun's fist away and send her flying backwards by thrusting his opposite hand forward: his Soul Thrust maneuver. As Jun landed on her back and groaned, Kazuya stomped his targeted foot on the ground and let out a sharp shout as a loud popping sound was heard once again. This time when Kazuya moved his foot around, the pain was gone, and he was able to put pressure on it once again.

Seeing that Jun was rubbing her midsection where the Soul Thrust connected, Kazuya smirked and advanced quickly to continue the assault. Just before he was able to take her down with another attack, Jun suddenly lashed out and delivered a swift elbow to Kazuya's jaw, spinning around on one foot to add rotational velocity to the attack. As a result, Kazuya was sent sliding across the grass, kicking up plenty of dirt and leaving a reddish mark on his back from the friction that such an attack created.

Even as Kazuya slowly sat back up and rubbed his jaw, he was not safe from the young woman he was in combat with. Coming at Kazuya at a full run, Jun trampled the Cold-Blooded Prince underfoot, planting her shoe right in his face and planting his head into the ground. Turning around just as Kazuya returned to his feet, Jun lifted her leg and thrusted it into her opponent's stomach like a battering ram with a turning side kick. Even someone as powerful as Kazuya could not hold his ground against such a sudden attack, and he was knocked backwards and brought right back down on his back.

This time when Jun charged towards him, Kazuya sprung back onto his feet and inadvertently kicked the young woman on the way up. Intentional or not, however, Kazuya knew an opportunity when he saw one and lifted his left leg into the air and brought down his heel onto Jun's head with a Left Splits Kick, causing her to topple over like a domino and give Kazuya a chance to prepare for his next attack. As soon as Jun was fully prostrate onto the ground, Kazuya lifted his right foot and successfully planted it into Jun's chest, eliciting a cry of pain from the young woman.

"You are putting up quite a fight, Jun Kazama," Kazuya said as he grinded his heel into her chest. "I faced another woman in this tournament before you, and although she was strong, she did not have your tenacity." Lifting his foot off of the young woman to give her the minutest moment of respite, Kazuya kicked Jun's fallen body and caused her to roll away like a log before she gained the wherewithal to use the momentum to roll to her feet and catch her breath. "Know that if you lose here, I will not hold it against you. I might even consider inviting you to become a member of my personal guard."

"I'll worry about that if I lose the fight," Jun said as she caught Kazuya's high kick and countered by using her foot to kick out the Cold-Blooded Prince's other foot and bring him to his knee. Rearing back her arm and charging her ki, Jun delivered a punishing chop to Kazuya's head and caused him to collapse onto the ground gripping where he had been struck. Once again performing a Cartwheel, this time Jun successfully planted her foot into Kazuya's stomach and caused a wad of saliva to shoot out of Kazuya's mouth like a volcano. "Unfortunately, I refuse to go down until I save you from the monster that possesses you!"

Hopping off of Kazuya and resuming her fighting stance, a thin smile formed on her face that Kazuya was much slower to get back up. _I'm actually winning, _Jun thought as she evaded Kazuya's forward punch and launched him into the air with a backflip. _I don't know, but I'm actually winning against him! _With Kazuya still airborne, Jun leaned forward and connected with a vertical elbow strike that sent the Zaibatsu leader careening away uncontrollably before he landed on his shoulders.

Not willingly to give him any respite, Jun charged Kazuya at a full run and toppled him over with a shoulder tackle just as he had returned to his feet. The Cold-Blooded Prince rolled to his feet and stood back up waiting for more, and Jun delivered it to him with a forward palm thrust that knocked him down like a domino. _"You're doing very well, Jun," _her father's voice whispered words of encouragement as Kazuya stood up and looked at her with eyes of astonishment. _"Deliver the coup de grace!"_

Nodding her in conjunction with her father's command, Jun charged her ki and began to spin towards Kazuya like a top. As she did so, her body crackled with her firework-like ki, as if it acted as the spark to the fuse that was Jun's body. _"This is it, Jun," _her father said as she senses Kazuya's presense mere feet away from her as she prepared to unleash her most powerful attack, the Spinning Heel Drop. _"This is it: just one more strike, and you will be able to take your place as Queen of the Iron Fists. Then, and only then will the evil of the Mishima be destroyed!"_

"Destroy?" Jun repeated out loud as common sense began to wash away her adrenaline rush. "No…no, that's not what I want!" Just as her foot was about to strike Kazuya's face, Jun suddenly cancelled her attack and skid to a halt, taking deep breaths as she looked into Kazuya's eyes. "No…I don't want to destroy him. I don't want to destroy you, Kazuya!"

"That's enough," Kazuya roared as he leaned forward and plunged his fist into Jun's stomach, causing her to buckle over in pain. "We are in the middle of a tournament fight: the least I expect you to do is hold nothing back! Didn't you enter this tournament to win? Isn't that the ultimate goal of martial arts: to emerge victorious over the opponent and declare yourself superior!?"

"…no," Jun said after coughing a few times and slowly rising up to her feet. "Not if it's at the cost of someone you care about. At first, I entered this tournament to arrest you for your animal trafficking crimes. Then, when I learned about your history, I decided I would eradicate the evil threat that you possess. However..." Jun clenched her fist before throwing it to the side and staring at Kazuya not with eyes of defiance, but of compassion. "…now that I know the whole truth behind your origin, I want to help you! You saved me from the Devil that lives inside you…and now I want to return the favor!"

"Y...you're messing with my head," Kazuya stammered before launching Jun into the air with an Electric Wind Godfist. "Being with Devil is troublesome, but it serves a purpose! It serves the purpose that I will never be stepped on again, especially those who pretend to be close to me!" Juggling Jun with a snapping kick, a quick jab, and an impaling knee, Kazuya sent Jun spiraling away with a standing roundhouse kick and continued his tirade. "My own father tossed me off a cliff and left me to die. I will never let something like that happen to me again…and if it means closing my heart forever, then so be it!"

Before Jun had fully returned to her feet, Kazuya sent her flying backwards with a dangerous Thunder Godfist. "You speak to me like you are my friend, and yet you have openly admitted that you entered this tournament to take me down," Kazuya growled as Jun landed hard on her back, only to slowly sit back up and return to her feet even though it was clearly not in her best interest to do so. Grabbing onto the young woman's collar, Kazuya lifted the young woman into the air and reared back his fist. "What made you decide to change your reason for fighting? Why will you not fight back!?"

"B…because," Jun said with a whisper as she flashed her opponent a thin smile, "because I think you're an interesting man. You are feared as a tyrant ready to plunge the world into chaos…and yet you clearly have a sense of honor and dignity that you carry out first and foremost. To be honest…I find that quite admirable and even a bit attractive…"

"SHUT UP," Kazuya roared as he let go of Jun, crouched down and spun around twice sent her flying away with his most powerful attack, the Screw Lightning Godfist. The young woman landed flat on her stomach and did not move save for her shallow breathing, allowing the young man to take his own haggard breaths. "Everything was just dandy until this tournament, when seeds of doubt where planted into my head by that Angel woman. Not long after that, you came into my life and cultivated those seeds of doubt." With a cold glare on his face and he clenched his fists, Kazuya walked over to Jun's fallen body. "To think that you were able to take me to the limit like this: now you are a threat."

To Kazuya's surprise, Jun pushed herself off the ground and returned to her feet, though it was obvious that him that she was in no condition to go toe-to-toe with him like she had been minutes before. Her shoulders were hunched over as she took deep breaths, and there were numerous scrapes and bruises across her body. More importantly, her identification pin had been broken, disqualifying her from the tournament and indicating that Kazuya was the official winner of the match. However, Jun's toughness only prompted Kazuya to grab Jun by the collar and rear his fist back in preparation for what would be a blow that would place Jun in a coma ward, if not a morgue.

But even in the face of death, Jun's spirit remained strong and true. Reaching out and putting her hand on Kazuya's chest, the young woman smiled warmly at the eyes of the man who was clearly at conflict with himself. "If bringing down is what it will take for you to realize that the benefit of evil has its limits…then strike me down. Just know that if you do, I will not hold it against you…because knowing you even for as brief as this fight was the greatest honor I could have received, even if it was in battle."

"…" Kazuya was silent as his eyes wavered, gazing into the brown eyes of this woman that intrigued him like no other woman before her. He looked at her eyes, and then her smile, and then back at her eyes again…until he finally let go of her collar and allowed her to fall to her knees while he stared at his fist. "It was not supposed to be like this," he whispered as he fell to his knees while holding his hands close to his face. "In front of these fists, all enemies are exposed before me…but when I turn my fists against you, they tell me nothing, for you are an undecipherable mystery that cannot be solved even with this master key."

Moving her hand away from his chest and towards his cheek, Jun caused Kazuya to make eye contact with the young woman that perplexed him so and smiled at him. Even though Kazuya had cost her a chance at fame and fortune as the next King of Iron Fist champion, there was no malice in her heart towards him. In fact, the emotion that she was feeling was quite the opposite. Through force of will, she had peeled away the layers of darkness that covered Kazuya's soul…and what she was seeing was something that she found quite interesting.

"_This is your chance, fool," _Kazuya heard Devil's voice call out to him as Jun's face drew nearer to his. _"While she's like this, you can plunge your hand into his chest and rip out her bleeding heart. After that, all that will be left will be dealing with whoever made it to the final round and then no one can dispute your claim as-"_

"Be silent," Kazuya whispered as he drew his face nearer to Jun's and his eyes became heavy. "Do not interfere."

"_What are you doing?" _ Jun heard her father's voice scold her as her face was now mere centimeter's from Kazuya's. _"This man is tainted with evil! If you get too close to him, you yourself will become infected with the taint and the purity of the Kazama clan will-"_

_Be quiet, father, _Jun thought before getting lost in the moment as he lips met with Kazuya's and the two shared a deep kiss. _Not now…_


	14. Silence

_**Author's Note**: Just a brief interlude here before the final battle. Even if we all know what happens next, I hope you'll enjoy it anyway when it comes time to ready it. _

-----

"GUH!"

With his father's fist connecting with his jaw, Kazuya's small body was thrown across the hard ground until he gradually skid to a halt. His father seemed particularly vexed that day, more so than he usually was. He claimed that he wanted to monitor his son's progress in the martial arts by testing his mettle in sparring, but Kazuya was beginning to understand that it was just a fancy way of saying that he wanted to take out his frustrations on his son. Of course, Kazuya couldn't really blame his father: if he looked as ugly as he did, he'd be pretty miffed, as well.

"Is that all, father?" the young boy said as he pushed himself off the ground and wiped the blood from his mouth. "Grandpa said that I should avoid you like the plague, and I think I'm starting to see why. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to fetch some water for the both of us. Judging from that look in your eye, you look like you could chill out."

"So much spunk for someone only five years old," Heihachi said as he folded his arms and glared at his son. "Even if your strength is not up to par, your mouth is clearly ready to go several more rounds. That is a good skill to have…if you want to settle for a mediocre job and mediocre life," Walking over to his young son, Heihachi lifted Kazuya up by the back of his gi and roared at him. "Is that what you want to be when you grow up, Kazuya: a disappointment!?"

"Just as long as I don't grow up to be as ugly as you, old man," Kazuya spat back before driving his tiny fist right between Heihachi's eyes, causing him to drop his son and grip his face in pain. Finding amusement in his father's troubles, Kazuya buckled over and began giggling uncontrollably, covering his belly to keep it from aching. "HAHAHAHAHAA! Keep covering your face, father! Maybe if you do, people won't notice how ugly you are!"

"T-that's not funny, you little brat," Heihachi growled as he uncovered his eyes to see Kazuya still rolling around on the ground laughing. "Go get us some water and get the giggles out of you, otherwise I'll put you over my knee and spank them out!" With that threat silencing Kazuya for a moment, the man hailed as the King of Iron Fists watched the little boy dust himself off and run over to the nearby waterfall. After a couple of minutes, Kazuya brought back two full pails of water and placed them in front of Heihachi.

"Here you go, old man," Kazuya said with a smug look on his face before picking up one of the buckets and putting it to his mouth. After taking a long swig of water, Kazuya wiped his mouth and sat down on the ground while Heihachi walked over to the ledge of the cliff they had been training at. "What are you doing over there? If you want me to bring the water over there, then you can forget it! Bring your lazy butt over here and get it-"

"Son," Heihachi interruptedly calmly, causing his little boy to stand up and take notice. Lifting his hand and motioning it towards him without turning around, the martial arts mater summoned Kazuya to his side. "Come over here next to me. There is something that I want to show you…"

Doing as he was told, Kazuya walked next to his father and looked down from the ledge. He didn't know exactly how deep the ravine was, but looking down at it made him dizzy. "So, what am I supposed to be looking at?" Kazuya asked casually, deciding to look straight ahead so he could avoid looking directly down. "Grandpa has taken me here a lot, so there's not really anything that I'm missing, right? Can we just go back to training?"

"Although you are only five years old, you have the strength of full-grown men in their prime," Heihachi ignored his son's disinterest and said what he wanted to say anyway. "Most children your age would be struggling to form complete sentences, but you can speak as clearly as any of us adults. You are clearly a very bright son…and yet, you slack off every chance you get. Why do you do this, son?"

"I just want to have fun," Kazuya said with a shrug as he looked up to his father. "Whenever I'm with you, all I do is train, train, train. You never let me visit kids, so I have no friends. You never take me out to the movies or play sports with me, because you tell me that they're 'silly.' The only person I ever play with is Grandpa: at least he knows that I want to have fun."

"That is what worries me," Heihachi said with a frown as he turned to look down at this son. "If you want to one day succeed me as the leader of the Zaibatsu, you will have to learn that work comes first, and play comes second. When I was your age, all I cared about was training and studying. I was determined to be just like your grandfather: a successful person in all aspects of life. Now that I have succeeded him as the Zaibatsu's leader, I am ready to surpass him…and one day, I want you to surpass me. Wouldn't you like that?"

"…I guess," Kazuya said distantly, his eyes drifting away from his father and towards a hawk that was flying in the distance. "It would be pretty cool to be in charge. If I'm lucky, you'll stop bugging me with 'training this' and 'training that' and I can do what I want." Turning away from the hawk, Kazuya looked back up to his father with his eyes wide with excitement. "Hey, do you think that if I become the leader of the Zaibatsu, I'll be able to make a lot of new friends!?"

"When you are the leader of the Zaibatsu, everyone will want to be your friend," Heihachi replied with a thin smile before looking down into the ravine. "Kazuya, I think you are at the age where you are ready to take the final step to determine whether or not you are worthy of our illustrious name. It's time to see if you are worthy of one day inheriting the Mishima Zaibatsu…"

"Do you mean it?" Kazuya asked with a wide smile, to which Heihachi nodded his head. "Then what are we waiting for, old man!? Let's get started so we can stop doing these stupid 'beat on Kazuya' moments!"

"Very well," Heihachi said with cruel grin as he picked up Kazuya by the back of his gi and lifted him into the air, dangling him over the ledge of the cliff. "If you think that you're ready, then I can do this without any regret!"

"W-what's going on?" Kazuya stammered as he looked down to see the deep ravine below. Turning his head towards his father with a look of fear on his face, the young boy asked again. "Father, what are you doing? This is dangerous!"

"Since you don't care for my training methods, then I'm going to give you an alternative approach," Heihachi pulled Kazuya towards him so that his face was a mere inch away from his, taking a good look at his son's surprised eyes. "The strength of the Mishima comes from recognizing one's fears and laughing in its face. Losing your mother, someone I loved deeply, was something that I had always feared would happen…so when it finally did, I overcame it and now I can look back on the experience and laugh on it!" Reaching out to one again bring Kazuya over the edge, Heihachi explained further. "I understand you have a fear of heights, so I'm going to help you overcome that fear by dangling you over this ledge until one of two things happen: you are no longer afraid of heights, or you fall down."

"NO WAY," Kazuya screamed as he struggled frantically. "I don't want to do this anymore! Let's go back to the old training where you just beat on me a lot and I get back up! Let me go! LET ME GO!"

"GAH-HAHAHAHA," Heihachi let loose a loud belly laugh as he watched his son squirt helplessly. "All of your bravado and tenacity and you're scared of a little fall and getting a boo-boo?" Mocking his son's weakness, Heihachi stepped a little closer to the ledge and brought Kazuya further away from stable ground. "So, are you afraid now?"

"Damn, you old fart," Kazuya hollered as loud as his little lungs could before turning around and delivering a sharp kick to Heihachi's nose. "LET ME GO!"

With Kazuya's big toe lodged in his nose, Heihachi looked down at Kazuya's foot and fought back a sneeze. "Well, if he's going to have a chance as my successor, he must have no fear," he reminded himself out loud as Kazuya pulled his toe out of his nose only to kick him again. "You know, son," Heihachi said, no-selling the kicks even though Kazuya was now hitting him repeatedly, "if you didn't struggle so much and just looked down, eventually you would get used to the height…"

"Who cares about how high I am," Kazuya sputtered out as he struggled with increased vigor. "It's the fall I'm worried about!"

"Hmmm…I do admit it would be a nasty fall," Heihachi said as he looked down, calmly assessing the matter as if it was only a few feet as opposed to a couple hundred meters. "I wouldn't worry about it, though: you're a Mishima, so I have no doubt you would live through it even if you did fall…although, you would probably be in enough pain to wish that were dead."

"That's not very helpful," Kazuya blurted out before turning his head so that it was facing Heihachi's outstretched arm. "Put me down!"

*CHOMP*

Sinking his teeth into Heihachi's flesh, Kazuya elicited a roar of pain from his father. In an attempt to get Kazuya to release his hold, Heihachi let go of the back of his son's gi so that his teeth were the only thing keeping him afloat. "Let go of me, you whelp," Heihachi growled as he swung his arm wildly hoping to force his son to release his bite. "You're actually hurting me! Let me go!"

With one final swing, Heihachi succeeded in getting Kazuya to relinquish his hold…but it came at a terrible price. Before either of them realized what was going on, Kazuya was flying well over the ledge and down into the ravine. "D-dammit," Heihachi cursed as he grabbed the air hoping to snatch Kazuya out of it, but his arms just weren't long enough. "Kazuya, you idiot! Look at what you've made me do!"

However, Kazuya did not have an insult off hand: there were only two things on his mind at that time. The first was that he had finally forced his father to do something via physical coercion, and that made him smile. The second thing quickly wiped that smile off of his face as he turned in mid-air and looked down at the ground far below that he was rapidly approaching. He was falling, very far down and very, very fast.

"I don't want to die," Kazuya said out loud as he continued plummeting to what he was sure to be his death, despite what his father told him about his ability to survive such a fall. "I DON'T WANT TO DIE! I'M JUST A LITTLE KID, I DON'T WANT TO DIE!"

"No…you don't. That is why I am here."

As Kazuya fell, a strange purple creature with leathery wings on its back hovered next to the boy even as he plummeted. "W-who are you?" Kazuya stammered, confused by the creature's presense before realizing that he was falling again. "SAVE ME! I'M FALLING AND I'M GOING TO DIE AND I WON'T BE ABLE TO PAY BACK THAT OLD MAN AND-"

"Yes, you will," the entity said quietly as the ground rapidly came closer. "With my help, you will survive this fall and climb back up. With my help, you will be able to exact vengeance upon your father. But in return…there is something you must do for me…"

"OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY," Kazuya repeated the same word over and over again as his eyes watered, half because the wind was rapidly blowing in his face and half because he was beginning to approach trees. "JUST SAVE ME AND I'LL DO ANYTHING YOU WANT!" The moments after his agreement go quite painfully for the young boy: while his outside was battered by sharp branches breaking against his body at high speeds, his insides felt like they were boiling. It was as if he was not being plunged into a ravine, but hell itself.

As he finally saw the bottom of the ravine, his destination, Kazuya screamed…

------

_Twenty-three years later…_

Taking a sharp breath as he shot up out of his bed, Kazuya looked around and realized that he had been dreaming…but his current surroundings only confused him further. _Where am I?, _Kazuya thought as he looked around at the polished wooden walls and drawers. _This is the cabin that I use whenever I visit the animal research facility…how did I get here?_

"Mmmmmmmm…."

Hearing a light moan next to him, Kazuya's head darted to his right and downward to see that he wasn't the only person sleeping in the bed that he was residing in. Lying next to him was a young woman with black hair slumbering peacefully, a thin smile on her youthful face. _Jun Kazama, _Kazuya confirmed the woman's identity as he tried to remember how he came into such a situation where he and his tournament opponent would be sharing a bed. _I…I think I remember now. After our battle, the two of us began to…explore one another. I told Jun that I had a cabin nearby, so we set off for there and began exchanging stories of our past. Once we got to the cabin, we…we..._

"_You made love to her," _an all-too-familiar female voice told Kazuya. _"After the two of you bore your souls to one another, you took her to bed and consummated what is sure to be a long and meaningful relationship. You should consider yourself honored, Kazuya: there are many men in this world who would have liked to have been in your place, and you did it without having to rely on money and power."_

"…that would explain why I'm not wearing anything," Kazuya grumbled as he carefully stepped out of bed, being sure not to wake up the woman sharing the bed with him, and quietly opened a nearby draw for some underwear. "Thankfully, this cabin is as stocked with clothing as it was the last time I inhabited it. I can get dressed and leave this place before she wakes up."

"_Why would you want to do such a thing?" _Angel asked curiously. _"You allowed this woman to enter your bed: does that not indicate that you have feelings for her? Why would you abandon her now, when your greatest triumph is only moments away? All that remains is that you defeat your final opponent using only the powers given to you at birth, and then you will have earned your title as the reigning King of Iron Fists. No one will be able to dispute, and they will have little choice but to applaud your efforts."_

"That is precisely why I need to get out of here before she wakes up," Kazuya replied as he found a pair of trunks and slipped them on. "As the head of the tournament, it is my responsibility to make sure that everyone is accounted for. If I were spotted with another competitor, especially doing the things that I did with her, I would be accused of favoritism and draw unwanted attention from the athletic commissions. Even if I were to win the finals, people will question the spirit of fairness and I will be met with scrutiny. No one must be given a reason to question my dominance."

After putting on his karate pants and red gloves, the Cold-Blooded Prince once again looked at the slumbering Jun and frowned. "I never imagined she would be able to finagle her way so far into my circle in such a short period of time. Truly, this woman is as mysterious as she is powerful. If not for my being a Mishima and her holding back at the last moment, it might have been her moving onwards through the tournament and not me. How humiliating would it be if I had to hand the Zaibatsu over to her?"

"_What would be so wrong with that?"_

"I still want to dominate the world," Kazuya reminded the entity that lived within the recesses of his consciousness. "Even if I do not follow that treacherous Devil's ideas of destroying everything, I have no intention of backing down from my conquest of Hokkaido. After I win the tournament, I'll announce the Zaibatsu as an independent nation and begin my worldwide coup. However, rather than reducing everything to nothingness, I shall prove my worthiness as a global emperor. No longer will the weak and lazy be able to prosper by exploiting the strong: under my rule, power shall go to those who deserve it. I will redefine the concepts of strong and weak so that only the most deserving can call themselves the leaders of my new world order."

"_And what will you do about Jun?" _Angel asked, questioning Kazuya's grand design. _"Will you forsake her as you rise to prominence, even after the night the two of you just had?"_

"Jun shall be at my side," Kazuya said with a thin smile as he walked out of the bedroom and into the living room, sitting down on a couch as he continued talking to voices that only he could hear. "That woman is still a mystery to me, and I intend to learn more about her. I know that she too has many questions about my powers and motives, so it shall be a mutually beneficial experience to be in each other's presence for prolonged periods of time."

*KNOCK KNOCK*

Turning his head to the door of the cabin, Kazuya stood up and walked over to the door, lifting his one of his hands and balling it up into a fist. There were only a precious few people who knew about the cabin he was residing at, and he told no one that he decided to rest their after his fight. Now that it was the early morning, Kazuya could not think of any reason for anyone apart from himself and Jun to be there…which left open the possibility that an assassin was going to attack.

Gently turning the knob until he heard a click, Kazuya swung the door open and reared back his fist in preparation for the first deadly strike…but lowered his fist when he saw his adopted brother Lee on the other side. "What are you doing here?" Kazuya asked coldly as Lee held his arms up, frightened by the death glare Kazuya was giving him. "I gave you no orders to come here, and I didn't tell you that I was here."

"I…just assumed that you would be here," Lee said after a pause, waiting for Kazuya to lower his fist and allow him inside. "You didn't return to the tower after your fight, so I used the tournament database to track your identification pin. I found out that you were here, so I thought I would bring a helicopter over and pick you up to the site of the final match."

"…wise thinking," Kazuya nodded his head in agreement and the two brothers walked into the kitchen. Heading over to the tea cuppard and pulling out a pot, Kazuya prepared to make some tea while reminding himself that Lee was his subordinate before a member of his family. "As long as you are here, tell me the status reports of the numerous tasks that I gave you in conjunction with the tournament."

"The cryogenic research program is officially underway, for starters," Lee said as he took off the jacket of his tuxedo and slung it over his seat. "During the tournament, we were able to find two ideal test subjects for the Cold Sleep No. 2 experiment. The first subject was taken against her will, when we found her planting a bomb in your private car. The second subject, oddly enough, volunteered to be a guinea pig when she learned who the first test subject was. It was a win-win situation, either way."

"Excellent," Kazuya nodded his head in approval as he turned the stove on and filled the teapot with water. "What of that Korean fighter that we had been blackmailing? Did he carry out his mission?"

"Sadly, no," Lee shook his head and sighed. "He ran into his assigned target in the tournament, but he couldn't bring him in. After that, he turned in his resignation papers and left without saying another word. He wanted to speak to you in person, but I told him that you were busy with the tournament and you wanted nothing to do with losers who couldn't even carry out their mission without something to show for it."

"A pity, but you were correct: I have no time for losers," Kazuya replied with a smirk as he sat down at the seat opposite of Lee at the coffee table and clasped his hands together before resting them on the table. "We still have the information that he was so adamant against us making public. If we require his services again, we could always use that leverage against him and bring him back. How are we doing on the military front? Did we get that new combat tank approved?"

"I got something even better," Lee said with a huge smile. "Since you gave me control of that division, I was able to approve increasing funding into the R&D department regarding robotics. That Prototype Jack that came to us to get upgraded for revenge against the Russian model came into contact with its rival a couple of days ago outside the tournament. Luckily for us, there were scientists at the site, and they were able to record all sorts of useful data. If we continue pouring research into that area, we might not even need the combat tank, and the animal soldier program would just prove redundant! It's so exciting, Kazuya: super robots flying across the city heralding in the new era of-"

"As long as it works, I do not care," Kazuya said distantly, quickly becoming bored despite Lee's excitement. Turning his head away from Lee and towards the kitchen window, Kazuya asked his next question. "What is the progress of that meddlesome Wang Jinrei? Is he still training you and filling your head with delusions of rebellion and betrayal?"

"I…what?" Lee raised an eyebrow in confusion. "I…I don't know what you're talking a-"

"Did you really think you would be able to plot against me and I wouldn't find out about it…brother?" Kazuya growled as he suddenly reached out and grabbed Lee by his collar, pulling him across the table and to his face. "My spies have reported that during the past several months, that old man has been visiting you and offering you training tips. In addition, he made you vow that you would put an end to the Mishima bloodline and 'bring honor back to the Mishima Zaibatsu.' Tell me, Lee…when were you going to strike?"

"Y-you got it all wrong, nii-san," Lee stammered as Kazuya once again gave him the death glare that would make even the most hardened individuals piss themselves. "It's true that Master Wang spoke to me about that, but I decided that to rebel against you would be idiocy of the highest order! After I lost in this tournament, I came to the conclusion that I would remain in your good graces until there came a chance when I could face you one-on-one, fairly, to determine control of the Zaibatsu. At the end of the day, you're still my brother…and you were the closest thing I had to a friend during Heihachi's insane training."

"…then I guess you will be waiting for quite some time," Kazuya replied with his voice cold as ice, letting go of Lee's collar and shoving him back into his seat. "Throughout my entire reign as the leader of the Zaibatsu, you have been in the forefront of all of my operations: the only man I put enough trust in to give full commanding power to while I'm off pursuing other endeavors. It would be a shame if you were to throw that away just because you became greedy."

"Kazuya?"

With a third, female voice intervening, Kazuya and Jun turned to the kitchen doorway to see Jun Kazama looking a little haphazard with her teal gi left open to reveal her black sports bra, and her black shorts slightly tilted and exposing her right hip. "I heard voices coming from the kitchen, and it seems that we have company," she said as she rubbed her tired eyes and bowed her head to Lee. "It is good to see you again, Lee Chaolan."

"What is she doing here?" Lee wondered out loud, perplexed by the young woman's appearance at what he had thought was Kazuya's hidden retreat, especially looking as messy as she did when only two nights before she presented herself as a well-mannered, well-kempt young lady.

"Jun Kazama was my opponent yesterday," Kazuya interjected before Jun could give an explanation. "Although she failed to defeat me, she managed to take me to the limit: I had to use my most powerful techniques to keep her down for the count. I was so impressed with her performance, in fact, that I offered her shelter for the evening at my hidden retreat. I felt it was the least I could do for such an interesting bout." Turning towards the young woman with his eyes stern, Kazuya asked for Jun to confirm his story. "Isn't that right, Jun?"

"Y-yes," Jun nodded her head once, realizing that omitting the part where the two of them lost themselves to passion for the night was in her best interest. "Kazuya treated my wounds last night and allowed me to sleep in. I clearly underestimated the Mishima Zaibatsu hospitality, and I apologize for that."

"…let us be on our way, Lee," Kazuya said as he stood up from his seat and headed to the door. "We have to greet the television crews at the site of the final battle before my opponent is scheduled to arrive. As the tournament head, it is my duty to make sure that everything is in perfect working order beforehand."

"Of course, Nii-san," Lee bowed his head as he reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a small radio. "I will tell the pilot to be prepared for our arrival and take off. What should we do about Madam Kazama?"

"No one apart from tournament personnel is allowed to be present at this battle," Kazuya reminded his brother as he took Jun by the arm and led her over to the living room away from Lee's ears. "Jun shall remain here and enjoy the hospitalities of this cabin. She will able to watch the fight via the television we have here: considering how state-of-the-art it is, it will be as if she was there in person."

"Why can't I come with you, Kazuya?" Jun asked as she pulled her gi up so that it was covering her body better than before. "After what happened yesterday, I thought the least I can do is follow you to the final battle…"

"The rules are the rules," Kazuya reminded the young woman sternly. "When I return, we can discuss future plans between us, but for now I ask that you stay here and watch from the sidelines. The last thing I need is more distractions." Tapping the side of his skull, Kazuya flashed Jun as a curious smirk that the WWWC officer wasn't sure to construe as threatening or inviting. "I'm sure the both of us know about distractions that come from within."

"But…Kazuya," Jun objected. "You don't know what awaits you at the final battle. If I don't come with you, then-"

"Then what?" Kazuya interrupted, his smirk fading into a look of concern. "Out with it, Jun: what is waiting for me at the final battle?"

"…if I don't come with you, then the only thing you will have to worry about is focusing on the task at hand," Jun smiled weakly, hoping to reassure the man she shared a bed with. "The most I can wish you is safe journey, and may fate smile upon you today. I'll be watching with great anticipation."

"...I do not need luck," Kazuya replied warily as he turned away and headed for the door with Lee opening it for him. "All I need is the power the lies within my fists, and my iron resolve to carry about my ambition. All you need to do is wait here for my return as the victor of this tournament."

As Kazuya closed the door, a sense of uneasiness washed over him as he realized something that did not occur to him when he woke up, but something that was important nonetheless. Normally when he woke up, the first voice he would hear was Devil, taunting him and encouraging him to take a swing at him to keep his hatred nice and hot. On this morning, the first voice he heard was not Devil's, but Angel's. It was a reversal that Kazuya couldn't decide on whether or not it was a pleasant one.

Nevertheless, the lack of Devil in his morning was an entirely new experience for him, and with the final battle only hours away, he couldn't help but wonder why he was being so silent…


	15. Final: Kazuya vs Heihachi

"DORYA!"

Letting out his trademark battle cry, Kazuya's body crackled with electricity as he punched the air to the sound of mild applause. While he normally did not engage in katas, the Cold-Blooded Prince felt it was necessary considering how close he was to victory. More importantly, there was going to be a very large audience watching his next fight, and he needed to come across as fearsome and awe-inspiring for the world at large. If he was going to rule the world, he would have to maintain an aura of nobility and indestructibility.

News teams from all across the world gathered at the site of the final battle of the King of Iron Fist Tournament 2: at the mouth of a volcano. Smoke had been billowing from the volcano for as long as anyone could remember, leaving the possibility for a fiery eruption always open. It was this sense of foreboding that attracted Kazuya to this location, because it was just like him: it drew respect and fear, but no one dared to get close to it. As such, he decided it would be an ideal place for his final victory in the tournament, where he would declare his official independence from the rest of the world.

When he announced to the press that the site of the final battle would be open for news coverage, Kazuya thought that only a handful of brave souls would trek up the mountain to witness his victory. However, he clearly underestimated the allure of a good scoop, and there were now fifteen different news teams from across the world gathered at what would be the final stage. _I suppose I should have expected as much, _Kazuya mused as he and his brother Lee stepped off of their helicopter to see the press camp before them. _People naturally want to greet their champion._

Two hours had passed since Kazuya arrived at the mountain, and the time for the final battle was drawing near. Now that he had completed his kata, he was now ready to compete for his claim as the reigning King of Iron Fists, body and soul. "Nii-san, you really shouldn't exert yourself so much," Lee said as he walked over with a towel while his brother wiped the sweat off of his brow. "Your opponent will come here fresh and rested: the last thing you want is to lose when you are not at your best."

"Your concern is as unnecessary as it is insincere," Kazuya growled as he snatched the towel from Lee and wiped his face. "If I could become winded by a simple kata, then I would not have emerged victorious at the previous tournament. This is just to get the blood flowing, and to put on a show for these parasitic reporters and cameraman. They came here for bloodsport, so this is just a ceremony to satiate their urge for violence."

"I never figured you to be a showman," Lee said with a smirk as he turned his head to see a handful of brave reporters hurry over to Kazuya with microphones in hand and cameramen in tow. "I figured that I was the only one with a sense of style in the family. There is still much I have to learn about you, nii-san…like how did that lovely Madam Kazama taste when you spent the night with her."

Ignoring Lee's snide remark and lewd implications, Kazuya shoved his adoptive brother aside and walked up to the press mob. "Before we begin this pre-fight interview, let me start by saying that I will not stand for you bombarding me with unnecessary questions," Kazuya said once he was within earshot of the group. "I will take your questions one at a time, and will answer them one at a time. If any of you dare to interrupt me before I finish my question, I will personally grab you by the collar and throw you into whatever camp you're in. Are we clear on that?"

"Yes, sir," one of the reporters said, a young black woman wearing a blouse. "Mr. Kazuya Mishima, do you know anything about your opponent in this final round? Can you tell us about what you expect your opponent to be like?"

"I made it perfectly clear that none of my opponents are pre-determined, so I know nothing about my adversary," Kazuya answered truthfully while he folded his arms. "If he or she made it this far, then there is no question in my mind that they earned their spot as a finalist. I imagine that their strength is of the highest caliber, and their resolve as iron-clad as my own fist. I look forward to seeing just how strong their resolve is when they clash fists with myself…assuming they show up."

"Why would you doubt that?" A bald male reporter asked.

"Throughout this tournament, I have made it perfectly clear that I will not accept tardiness," Kazuya replied sternly as he narrowed his eyes. "My opponent has only ten minutes to arrive, and if he or she truly cared about the wealth and prestige involved in this tournament, they would have come well in advance rather than cut it so close. They should know that silly mind games like waiting until the last minute to show up will not work on me. While I will complement their strength and resolve, obviously their strategy can use a little bit of work."

"What can you say about your claims of you using this tournament to further your plans of worldwide domination?" a young Asian reporter changed the subject away from the potential opponent, causing Kazuya to glance in his direction. "It's no secret that you are now the main power in Hokkaido, and the current rumor is that you intend to use it as the base for your military campaign against whoever dares challenge you."

"Yes, I do intend to establish myself as a player in the world's affairs," Kazuya said with a smirk: one that made the reporter take a step back in intimidation. "My father used the previous tournament to find strong warriors for his own campaign, but I quickly put a stop to that. Now I intend to use it for a similar purpose, only I am going to win this tournament to prove to everyone in the world that I am worthy of their attention and respect. After all, if I am undisputedly the strongest in the world, isn't it only natural for people to admire me?"

"Do you have anything to say to any potential political opponents who might dispute your ideas to declare the Mishima Zaibatsu as an independent nation…if that is indeed what you have in mind with all of the military power you've accumulated?" the black woman from before asked cautiously, not sure if Kazuya would lash out at her for asking such a question.

"As a matter of fact, I do," Kazuya's smirk disappeared as he gazed the camera that was being held just behind the woman, staring into it with eyes as cold as the Arctic. "You people fear what you do not understand, and rightfully so. Should I decide to declare my independence, it will be entirely up to you whether or not I am a benevolent ruler or a malevolent one. If you let me do as I please, I can promise you that I will spare the rod and shower you with riches. Should you stand in my way, I can promise you that I will turn all of my rage unto you, and you will fall."

Before any reporter could dare ask another question following such a foreboding answer, the sound of a vehicle approaching entered their ears, causing everyone to look towards the paved path to see a limousine approaching. "I suppose that is my opponent," Kazuya said out loud as he lifted his hands and walked through the small group of reporters and cameraman to greet his opponent. "All of you should retreat to a safe distance: who knows what will happen in this battle."

"You heard him, people," Lee said as he shoved the group back towards the press camps. "As of now, this is officially a battle ground for the tournament. Anyone who interferes will be arrested and fined by the athletic commissions. Please stand back and let my brother do what he does best, and enjoy the fight." Although Lee acted authoritative, there was sweat coming from his brow…and it wasn't from the heat. Seeing Kazuya approach the limousine, Lee called out to his brother. "Nii-san, I don't think it's such a good idea to get so close to that limo. Your opponent might surprise you and-"

"Be silent," Kazuya interrupted harshly as he stopped walking once the driver of the limousine stepped out of the car and walked over to the passenger's side. As the driver opened the passenger door, Kazuya lowered his head and bowed politely, a confident smile on his face. "Congratulations on advancing to the finals of the tournament. You have proven your strength and have earned the right to face me and attempt to claim my spot as the King of Iron Fists. Hold nothing back and…and…"

Upon seeing who stepped out of the vehicle, Kazuya's voice trailed off and his face lost color. Although he had participated in the tournament without knowing who the opponents were, Kazuya had preconceived notions about potential finalists. As he told the press, he expected his opponent to be strong and brave: someone who he could trade fists with and not have them buckle underneath his fist within seconds. More importantly, he expected his opponent to be someone that he wasn't intimately familiar with...and someone that hadn't already fallen to him.

But standing in front of him, despite how much Kazuya told himself that what he was seeing wasn't real, was someone that he had not only defeated in the past, but thought to have killed with his own two hands. "I…impossible," Kazuya whispered as his opponent gave him a chilling smirk, his black horseshoe mustache rising as a result. "You're dead…YOU'RE DEAD!"

"Obviously not," Heihachi replied smugly as he cracked his neck and dusted off his black karate gi. "Perhaps if you bothered checking for a body, you would have known about my continued existence. Unfortunately for you, you neglected to send out any search teams to confirm my death. Thanks to that, I competed in this tournament completely undetected by you…although Lee was not quite as ignorant."

"What?" Kazuya's head darted back to see his adopted brother look away from him, as if ashamed. Not willing to accept that, Kazuya walked over to Lee and grabbed him by his neck to lift him into the air. "You knew about this and did not tell me!? You vile turncoat, what was going through your head!? Were you planning to side with Heihachi and turn against me, just like you turned against him!? I made you my secretary, and eventually my second-in-command, and that wasn't enough!"

"Y-y-y-you told me that you didn't want to know any of your opponents," Lee stuttered as the eyes of his brother bore into him like daggers. "I didn't want to bother you with such details because I thought it would be an unnecessary distraction…but I figured if you defeated him once, you could do it again if you wanted to!" Shifting his eyes over to the smiling Heihachi, Lee's voice went from fearful to uncertain. "You can beat him again…right?"

"O-of course," Kazuya stammered as he relinquished his chokehold and Lee and allowed him a chance to breathe. The shock of seeing his most hated enemy again still hadn't gone away, and even as someone as sure of his power as himself was shaken. Turning back towards Heihachi, Kazuya took a deep breath to try and regain his composure. "How did you survive the fall? At least tell me that!"

"You underestimate the power of the Mishima," Heihachi said as he pointed to the cross-shaped scar on his chest. "I told you years ago, when you fell off of that same cliff, that even if you were to fall, you would probably survive. As I hit the bottom of the ravine, I felt the lifeblood flow out of me from my chest, and I hurt oh so much. However, I could not deny that my body still drew breath, and so I began the long climb up from the cliff with that rain beating down on me. Throughout the blinding pain and dehabilitating aches, all I did was remind myself of how you defeated me with your foreign power, and how I had become complacent in that I did realize your deceit sooner. Once I climbed back up, I went into seclusion to remind myself of what it was like to have nothing but one's own fists, so that when I faced you again…I would teach you the power of strength via training, and not via some magical beast!"

"_Devil…DEVIL," _Kazuya screamed to the voice in his head that had been mute since his night of passion with Jun Kazama. _"Why are you not speaking to me!? Our deal has not yet been complete: Heihachi is still alive! Lend me your power again so that I can strike him down forever and finally be rid of him! Lend me the power to finally rip out this bastard's heart and forcefeed it to him!"_

The Cold-Blooded Prince waited for the entity's voice to respond to him, probably with some backhanded insult or snide remark…but he remained silent. "Treacherous worm," Kazuya said out loud before spitting on the ground and assuming his fighting stance while Heihachi's limousine drove away. "This time I shall be sure to put an end to you, old man," he growled while Heihachi scoffed and assumed his own fighting stance. "You were right: I should have checked for a body to confirm your death. This time I shall watch you die in front of me…in front of all of these cameras, for the entire world to see!"

"What is wrong, son?" Heihachi said with a smug grin as he stepped forward only for Kazuya to step back cautiously. "When we last faced each other, in the final round of the previous tournament, you were so confident and sure of yourself. You were certain that the demon that lived inside of you would provide you with the strength necessary to defeat me, and yet now your eyes waver with the uncertainty of someone going out to sea during a typhoon. Are you really so surprised to see me, when so many of your opponents knew of my existence?"

"What are you talking about, you old fool?" Kazuya snarled as he charged Heihachi with his fist raised, only to be sent sliding backwards with a pushing kick. Quickly returning to his feet and resuming his fighting stance, the Cold-Blooded Prince once again advanced, though much more carefully than before. "How would you know who my opponents were?"

"My contacts tell me that one of them was a Miss Jun Kazama," Heihachi explained as he spun around for a roundhouse kick, only for Kazuya to block. "I had the honor of meeting her early in the tournament: such a lovely woman, so full of vigor and ideals. She told me that she intended to rid you of the dark powers that surrounded you, and I was curious to see if she would. Surely she would have told you of my existence…right?"

_Even she withheld this information from me?, _Kazuya thought as he grabbed onto the back of Heihachi's head before rearing back and delivering a sharp headbutt to the old man's skull, causing him to topple over. _Even after I allowed her to get so close to me, even going so far as to share a bed with her…she kept such a vital secret from me!? Am I so naïve that I would allow so many traitors into my circle!? How could I have been so blind!?_

"Ugh…judging from the look on your face, you seem surprised that young woman would have kept such a secret from you," Heihachi pointed out as he rubbed his forehead and stood back up. "Still, you have no one to blame but yourself. I have seen how you've been running the Zaibatsu, trying to use it as a weapon to lead the world into chaos while you alienate those around you...and I am most displeased." Rearing back just as Kazuya had turned back around to attack him, Heihachi rammed his own forehead into his son's skull and sent him bouncing across the ground like a stone skirting on water. "I shall take back what is rightfully mine, and put you back in your place!"

Quickly rising back up and shaking his head, Kazuya looked towards his nemesis and saw him charge at him with violent intent. The Cold-Blooded Prince quickly put a stop to that by delivering a left-right punching combination to Heihachi's face, following by a spinning backfist to the side of his head that caused him to stumble. "You are a relic from a past age, old man," Kazuya growled as Heihachi rubbed the side of his head, allowing Kazuya to raise his fist in preparation for a more powerful attack. "I am the present and future!"

Seeing Kazuya's fist come for his head, Heihachi lifted his hand and caught the oncoming punch in the palm of his hand. The old man scoffed as he squeezed the fist, applying pressure to it and causing the Cold-Blooded Prince to wince in pain. Undeterred, Kazuya's body began to crackle with electricity as he poured his ki into his trapped fist, adding power to it and causing Heihachi to lift his other hand to keep the fist from escaping his grip. After a couple of seconds of being deadlocked, Kazuya lifted his foot and struck his father in the face with a slap-like kick to the face before bringing his foot back down and toppling his father over, forcing him to let go of his hand in the wake of Kazuya's "Bitch Kicks."

Not willing to give Heihachi a chance to get back up, Kazuya jumped into the air and attempted to pounce on the old man with a jumping punch to the chest. Unfortunately for Kazuya, Heihachi lifted his foot straight up into the air and caused his son to fall chin-first onto his foot. Stunned from the attack, Kazuya stumbled backwards while gripping his mouth, giving Heihachi plenty of time to stand back up and dust himself off. The Cold-Blooded Prince growled as he heard his father's footsteps coming close, and Kazuya retaliated by spinning down low for a Hellsweep attempt.

At the same time, Heihachi jumped into the air and delivered a punishing spinning jump kick to Kazuya's jaw, causing him to spiral uncontrollably through the air before landing flat on his face. "You are unfocused today, boy," Heihachi said as he lifted his foot and prepared to deliver a Geta Stomp to Kazuya's fallen body. "It took me several years to finally become complacent enough in my position as head of the Zaibatsu, yet you seem to have lost your vigor after only two!"

Putting his hands in front of him, Kazuya caught Heihachi's foot mere inches away from his chest and stood back up with it still in tow. After letting out a ferocious shout, Kazuya lifted his elbow and drove it into Heihachi's shin, causing the elder fighter to roar in pain and swipe at Kazuya until he let go of his leg. With Heihachi hopping around on one foot thanks to the immense pain he was in, Kazuya jumped slightly into the air and delivered a quick side jump kick to Heihachi's chest, toppling him over in the process.

Kazuya noticed that Heihachi was still gripping his shin, so he decided to target it by reaching down and grabbing onto it. Before he could deliver another punishing blow to the leg, however, Heihachi broke free from Kazuya's grip and kicked him away so that he could return to his feet. The Cold-Blooded Prince spun around for a Hellsweep hoping to strike the shin, but to his surprise, Heihachi anticipated the attack and shoved the attacking leg aside, causing his son to lose his balance and fall flat on his buttocks.

With the low parry successful, Heihachi crouched down and attacked with a low sweeping kick that struck the sitting Kazuya in his hip. The Cold-Blooded Prince quickly returned to his feet just in time to catch Heihachi with the point of his elbow just as he stood up from his crouch. The former King of Iron Fists covered his head when Kazuya lifted his arm for another elbow smash…but received a fist to his chest for his efforts and was knocked backwards by Kazuya's feint to Soul Thrust. "So predictable," Kazuya mused with a smirk as he resumed his fighting stance and watched Heihachi get back up with an annoyed look on his face.

When Heihachi charged at him and spun around once he was within striking distance, Kazuya expected his father to attempt a spinning backfist and thus crouched in anticipation of the attack so that he could rise back up with a Thunder Godfist. Unfortunately for Kazuya, Heihachi had something else in mind: with his lightning-like ki crackling in his two hands, the elder karateka sent Kazuya sliding across the ground with a mid-hitting burst of energy: his Demon Breath technique. With Kazuya grounded, Heihachi decided to be theatric and jump into the air with a forward somersault, flopping forward to bring the full weight of his body down on Kazuya with his Demon Scissors attack.

The two fighters rose back up simultaneously and lifted their left legs simultaneously to deliver a Split Axe Kick to each other's shoulders. Interestingly enough, both fighters managed to maintain their balance despite the heavy blows they dealt to one another, entering a deadlock where the two fighters were connected to one another via their legs. As the two fighters attempted to pull their legs free, Heihachi reared back his hand and prepared to thrust it into Kazuya's chest. However, the Cold-Blooded Prince pulled his leg free before Heihachi could do so, and snatched the elder fighter off of his feet and spun around to fling him into the ground like a throw rug: his Steel Pedal Drop being used to full effect.

Heihachi sprung back to his feet and resumed his fighting stance just in time to duck under Kazuya's leaping kick, only to rise back up and send his son flying away with a mighty Thunder Godfist. With Kazuya airborne, Heihachi did something that his son didn't think possible: he actually ran after his son and caught him in mid-air with an additional punch. Following up with a mighty Demon Lair combo, the former King of Iron Fists sent the current King flying further backwards and landing flat on his face.

_He's so much stronger now, _Kazuya thought as he rolled over so that he could sit up, only for Heihachi to plant his foot into his sternum. _He was always powerful, but I don't remember him being like this. Is it possible that the only reason I defeated him was because he had been sandbagging all of that time and I was his first real challenger in a long time? Am I only now bearing witness to the true power of Heihachi Mishima?_

"_This is one of the dangers on relying of powers other than yourself, Kazuya," _Angel's voice whispered as Kazuya grit his teeth while Heihachi ground his heel into Kazuya's body. _"Had you not allowed Devil to control your fighting during the previous tournament, you would have known what it is like to fight alone against your father. Heihachi has devoted himself to his training, while you focused more of the political aspect of being the leader of the Zaibatsu. As a result, Heihachi has the upper hand…"_

_Speaking of which, that treacherous demon has been cheating me: he promised me that he would help me kill Heihachi, and yet he failed to do so, _Kazuya mumbled as he wrapped his hands around Heihachi's ankle, hoping to pull his father's foot off of his body. _So far he has been silent throughout this entire conflict: he won't even give me any strategies to use! Angel, how about you stop nagging me and offer me some help? It's about time that you earned your keep in my body…_

"_Unfortunately, I cannot do that," _Angel replied as Kazuya's body crackled with his ki as he slowly lifted Heihachi's foot off of him. _"As the anti-thesis to the Devil within, my purpose is to lead you down a path where you no longer have to rely on foreign powers to win battles. However, I can offer you advice: if you wish to defeat your father, you will have to accept defeat first. You cannot defeat him as you are now, but an opportunity can present itself at any time. Prepare yourself without the Devil within and challenge Heihachi to a rematch later, and losing here so that you can emerge triumphant another day."_

_So you are telling me to take a knee?, _Kazuya asked the voice in his head as he sat up with Heihachi's foot still in his hand. _I have come much too far to fall here! I will not accept defeat when I am so close to achieving my path to domination…least of all to the man I hate more than anyone else in the world! Training and self-reliance can wait for another day…but for now, I need the power to take him down!_

"_Hmph! You didn't seem so accepting when I specifically advised against getting close to Jun Kazama," _Devil's voice finally spoke as Kazuya's eyes began to glow red and his forehead opened up to reveal a third red eye. _"If I do this final task for you, you must do everything I ask of you without fail. Are we clear on that, Kazuya Mishima?"_

"It's about time you fulfilled your end of the bargain, Devil," Kazuya said out loud as his entire body began radiating a bright purple light until he became completely engulfed by it. "It is time for you to fulfill your promise to me and help me kill this decrepit fossil once and for all! Do not fail me again, demon, or I shall expel you from my body forever!" When the light faded, standing in Kazuya's place was the purple winged demon that had defeated Heihachi in the previous tournament, causing the old man to raise his eyebrows in surprise. Lifting his leg and kicking Heihachi away from him, the transformed Kazuya bellowed in an demonically-altered voice, "Let us finish this, old man!"

A collective gasp emerged from the news camps as Kazuya revealed his true form for them to see. After all, it was not commonplace for a human being to suddenly transform into a demon. However, Kazuya cared little for what they thought: all that mattered to him was that he struck fear into Heihachi. Unfortunately for him, there wasn't anything resembling fear within Heihachi's face, but something that more resembled disappointment. "Why are you looking at me like that, fool?" Kazuya growled as Heihachi charged his lightning-like ki and started walking towards his son. Charging his own energy, Kazuya's third eye began to glow as he prepared for a technique that was deemed impossible except for those of his unique disposition. "Let's see you laugh at this!"

A thin beam of purple energy fired from Kazuya's forehead, making a beeline straight for Heihachi's head. Using reflexive speed that belied his years, Heihachi gently moved head to the side to avoid the beam. Instead, the beam hit an umbrella set at the press camp and set it ablaze, causing panic to break out in the camp. "Screw this," one of the cameramen said, saying what many of the news people were apparently thinking by heading to their respective vehicles. "We don't get paid to deal with freaks! Let's go to safe ground and we'll interview the winner later!"

Within minutes, what had been fifteen different news coverage teams dwindled down to one: a reporter and a cameraman that decided to hang around the only other known martial artist in the area, Lee Chaolan. "Run away and flee, insects," Kazuya roared as he fired off another lethal beam at Heihachi. "You will all know my rage and malice after this is over! Running away from it won't help you!"

"I am not running, demon," Heihachi said in a low, foreboding voice as he once again dodged a lethal beam. "You have corrupted my son and turned him into an abomination. You have guided him down the path of eternal damnation, and have helped him run the Zaibatsu's name in the mud." With his slow walk evolving into a full run, the former King of Iron Fists charged at Kazuya with his fist raised. "I shall make you pay for your sins with your black blood!"

"Don't talk to him, fool," Kazuya roared before firing off several more bursts of energy in succession, hoping that at least one of them would strike Heihachi. "Talk to me! I was the one that endured all of your training! I was the one that was thrown off of a cliff! I was the one who had to sit and wait while you walked around not paying for the crimes you committed against me!"

Heihachi was able to dodge the first few beams, but even he could not evade all of them. One of them hit the elder fighter squarely in the chest, drawing blood and eliciting a roar of pain from the former King of Iron Fists. Realizing that he now had a chance to deliver a fatal blow, Kazuya charged his now-purple ki and dashed towards Heihachi with his wings propelling him forward. "Know this, old man," Kazuya growled as he lifted his fist and prepared to drive it through Heihachi's bleeding chest. "Kazuya Mishima answers to no one but himself! NO ONE!"

"_Oh, really?"_

Before Kazuya could deal his coup de grace, the wings in his back detracted, his third eye closed, and his skin pigmentation returned to its normal color. With nothing left propelling his flight, Kazuya fell to the ground and skid to a halt face-first, stopping at Heihachi's feet. _W-what happened?, _Kazuya thought as he lifted his head and shook it vigorously to shed the dizziness. _Why did I change back? _Looking up to see Heihachi's hand raised high above his head with his body crackling with energy, Kazuya realized that he had bigger things to worry about. "No…NO!"

Although Kazuya lifted his hands to try and defend himself, he could do nothing against Heihachi's most powerful attack, the Demon Tile Splitter, as it came down hard on his head, effectively knocking him old cold and toppling him over like a domino. His identification pin exploded in a burst of circuitry and smoke, signifying his defeat and Heihachi's triumph. Despite all of his power and prestige, Kazuya had fallen to his father in a strange reversal of events from the previous tournament.

The irony did not escape the victor as he lifted his foot and stomped on Kazuya's head, eliciting a groan from his son. "I am truly disappointed in you, son," Heihachi growled as he lifted his foot and picked up Kazuya by the head, dragging him towards the mouth of the volcano that continued to billow smoke, undeterred by the battle happening on it. "Had you accepted defeat fairly, I would have allowed to the opportunity to earn back your spot as my heir, by training you until I deemed you worthy of competing for the chance to fight me again."

"W-what are you doing with him?" a voice called out, causing Heihachi to turn his head to see Lee walking over to him. "Father, I think you need to sit down and think about what you're doing! You don't really want to do what I think you're about to do! He's your son, after all, and-"

"BE SILENT," Heihachi roared as he delivered a mighty backfist to Lee's jaw that sent him spiraling backwards. Once Lee had returned to his feet with a noticeable bruise on his face, the new King of Iron Fists bellowed out his first command as ruler among fighters. "Tell those cameramen to turn off their cameras and turn away, or I'll do the same to you!"

After watching Lee do as he was told, Heihachi turned back to Kazuya and lifted him up into his arms. "Unfortunately, you have thrown away your qualifications as the Zaibatsu leader by allowing yourself to be possessed by darkness yet again. I cannot allow the opportunity to squirm your way back into power....and that is why before I came here, I visited your mother's grave and apologized to her for what I am about to do."

"Uggggh," Kazuya groaned as he regained consciousness. Looking up to see Heihachi looking down at him, and then down to see the smoky abyss below, the Cold-Blooded Prince attempted to struggle, but his body had been exhausted of all of its dark power. _Why did I lose?, _he thought as Heihachi dropped him into the pit of smoke and he let out a roar of defiance. _How could I have lost! Everything was so perfectly planned! Why would Devil abandon me…was it because of that woman!?_

As the sight of Heihachi became farther and farther away, Kazuya's lips formed into a snarl before fiery darkness took him. _With these hands…I will bring your life to an end, Heihachi! Whether it be in this life or the next, I shall get my revenge!_


	16. Guilt Trip

To say that Jun Kazama had a bad day would be a grand understatement.

It began before she even woke up, when she had a terrible nightmare that involved Kazuya Mishima, whom she had shared a bed with that night, being plunged into a fiery inferno by her father Heihachi. While most nightmares faded away like any other dream, Jun could vividly recall the location and words spoken during the dream. The confrontation between father and son happened at the mouth of a volcano, with several other people watching in the background. Additionally, Kazuya transformed into the Devilish form that he had revealed to Jun during their first encounter, in an attempt to slay Heihachi, but the elder karateka was much too strong for that. When the fight was over, Heihachi told Kazuya that he had disqualified himself from the list of possible candidates for the Zaibatsu, and tossed him into the volcano.

When Jun woke up, Kazuya had just prepared himself to leave for the site of the final battle of the King of Iron Fist Tournament 2, which just so happened to be at the mouth of the volcano. The young woman approached Kazuya and attempted to warn him about what awaited him, but she held her tongue and decided that her nightmare was just that: a figment of her imagination. She instead wished Kazuya good luck in his final battle, and said that she would watch the fight with great anticipation.

Staying in Kazuya's cabin, Jun turned on the television and watched the coverage of the final battle of the King of Iron Fist Tournament 2. Kazuya seemed strong and focused: she felt pity for the unfortunate soul that would be his opponent in the final round. When that opponent pulled up in a limousine, however, Jun's pity turned to concern: it was Heihachi Mishima, standing at the mouth of the volcano just like Jun had envisioned. Her nightmare had become reality, and because of her negligence, Kazuya Mishima was going to pay with his life.

Had Jun told Kazuya about Heihachi's existence when she had the chance, the battle might not have gone so poorly for the head of the tournament. There was the possibility that he would have sent out an assassin to kill his father before he could face him, but at least Kazuya would have had a chance to mentally prepare himself against the possibility of facing someone he believed dead by his own hand. Instead, Kazuya was completely taken off-guard by his father's appearance in his tournament, as evident from his facial expressions and body language caught on camera. Just as Jun had envisioned, Kazuya transformed in a last-ditch effort to achieve final victory, but Heihachi shrugged it off and defeated his son.

But even that wasn't enough for Heihachi. Picking up his unconscious son and dragging him to the edge of the volcano, the new champion ordered that all news feeds be shut down, and so the television that Jun had been watching turned to static. Unfortunately, Jun didn't need a news feed to tell her what had happened, since her nightmare had come true so far. Heihachi had done something that no father should ever do: he killed his son with his own hands. Although Heihachi was the one who did the deed, Jun felt no malice towards him, for she believed that he was the not the reason that Kazuya no longer drew breath.

In Jun's eyes, she was the true murderer. If she had told Kazuya about Heihachi competing, he might have still been among the living. If she had told Kazuya about her nightmare that turned out to be a prophecy in disguise, he might have still been among the living. Even if Jun had ignored Kazuya's warnings for her not to go to the final battle, and found a way to go there anyway, he might have still been among the living. Instead, Jun remained passive throughout the entire ordeal and allowed disaster to happen. All of her efforts to release Kazuya from the evil powers that surrounded him proved to be for naught.

After getting a ride back to her hotel where her belongings were, Jun was invited to formally invited to meet the new head of the Mishima Zaibatsu in his office at the Zaibatsu tower. At first, Jun considered declining Heihachi's offer, considering he was the one who delivered the fatal strike to the one that she shared a bed with, but she realized that being spiteful was not going to bring anyone back, so she accepted the invitation and made her way over to the tower. Rather than dress up elaborate like she had for the socials, Jun instead opted to wear a simple white dress with sandals. While black was the preferred color for mourning, Jun did not want to arouse suspicion from Heihachi so she compensated by putting on a pair of black sunglasses.

_Why am I even worried about arousing suspicion from that man?, _Jun thought as she looked down at the city through the glass elevator she was standing in. _Is it because that if I wear something more appropriate for a funeral, he would suspect that I became intimate with Kazuya and see me as a threat? Is it really necessary for me to be so paranoid?_

"_Heihachi Mishima defeated someone that defeated you in the tournament," _Jun's father whispered in her mind. _"Is it only natural to be afraid of someone who proved himself superior to someone that you could not best in combat. If he was willing to do what he did to his own son, what would stop him from doing something nastier to someone that his son became intimate with…against my advice, might I add."_

_What happened happened, father, _Jun thought back as she folded her arms. _For a brief moment, I peeled away the layers of darkness that surrounded him and saw something that I liked. Even though it wasn't for very long, I was made privy to the true face of Kazuya Mishima, and not the Kazuya that had been under Devil's thrall for so long…and this side of Kazuya very attractive, indeed. _

"_Do you really think it was your personality that revealed that side, Jun?" _her father asked with a hint of arrogance, causing Jun to raise an eyebrow in curiosity. _"Those of Kazama blood can do more than just see spirits: we can drive them away, as well. You might not have realized it, but the reason Kazuya didn't rip your heart out when he had the chance was because you had silenced the Devil within with your touch. Don't think for a minute that your charm will work on everyone…because if you do, you might wind up in a bodybag!"_

"That's very reassuring, father," Jun replied coolly as the elevator let out a ding and its door opened. "I would prefer that you did not imply that I forcefully ripped Kazuya's Devil personality from him. There is no conflict in this world than can truly be solved by overcoming power with power: all that will do is invite the possibility for revenge from the defeated enemy. If the darkness is to be shooed away, it must be done with a purifying light…and I intend to become that light that pierces the darkness."

"Who are you talking to?" a deep, gruff voice called out from the other end of the room, causing Jun to look up as she walked through the door to see Heihachi wearing his red coat with his back turned, staring out the window of his office. "I do not recall asking that you bring friends over to this meeting…"

"I was just talking to myself, Heihachi," Jun replied as she looked around at the room that she had been in only days before. "The past couple of days have been very stressful for me, considering that I have done nothing but fight and prepare to fight. I am sure you can understand the stress of wondering who you will be fighting next, and how much effort you might have to expend to defeat that potential opponent."

"Stress?" Heihachi repeated as he turned around to face Jun, an amused smirk on his face. "Hmph! 'Stress' is not the word I would use for that feeling. The term I prefer to use is 'anticipation!' Wondering whether or not you will rise or fall in the face of your next opponent is something I thrive on, especially now that the taste of defeat is still fresh in my mouth and I have proven to myself that I can get back up after I fall down?"

"…why did you call me here, Heihachi?" Jun asked as she folded her arms. "If you wished to speak to me about the philosophy of battle, you could have done so in a place that is more accessible than the Zaibatsu tower…to be perfectly honest, I was quite surprised when I received your call, because you struck me as someone who had no time for those who lost to people you've already defeated."

"Come now, that is no way to talk to someone who extends a laurel of friendship," Heihachi's smirk disappeared at Jun's remark, walking closer to her so that he was only a couple of feet away from her. "I brought you here to ask about what you thought of my son when you ran into him during the tournament. My eye-witness accounts told me that you gave him a run for his money: quite an amazing feat for someone not of Mishima blood!"

"He was a very strong fighter," Jun replied truthfully as she put her arms to her side. "He wished to conquer the world one day, and his resolve was strong enough so that this wish was not just a mad dream. I attempted to put a stop to his plans by ending his run through the tournament, but in the end I could not bring him down. At the end of the day, he proved himself to be the stronger fighter, and-"

"That's not what I mean," Heihachi interrupted as his eyes narrowed, peering into Jun's brown eyes veiled beneath her shades. "My eye-witness reports also claim that something happened after the battle. Kazuya was prepared to deliver a fatal strike, and yet you said something to him that made him hesitate. My son was someone who would kill an opponent without a second thought, and yet he spared your life just as he was about to put an end to you. In addition to this, my informant told me that you even kissed him…and he did not struggle."

_Maybe my suspicions about Heihachi bringing me here weren't so farfetched, _Jun thought as she bit her lip while Heihachi's gaze bore into her like the spikes or an Iron Maiden. _It sounds as if he knows about what went on between me and Kazuya, and is assessing whether or not I will take revenge for his son's death by plotting an assassination of my own. _"What are you getting at, Heihachi?" Jun said after an uncomfortable silence.

"When we first met each other, you told me that you were interested in learning more about Kazuya, so I gave you some insight. We then had a discussion about how we should deal with someone so corrupted, and you vehemently disagreed with my methods of overpowering him with the only thing that he understands: more power," Heihachi explained as he walked past Jun to a fist-shaped golden trophy that was sitting on a table. "When I told you that I liked you, I was not just saying that to be patronizing: the look in your eyes when you told me that you were going to stop Kazuya your own way was one that I found admirable…so you can imagine my surprise when I heard that you were kissing him, the man that you had set out to make pay for his crimes!"

"…the day before our fight, I was able to arrange a meeting with Kazuya, right here in this room that we are in now," Jun said as she turned around to see Heihachi pick up the trophy. "Due to my position as a semifinalist, I was granted an audience with him and we were able to talk about personal matters, such as the evil forces that surround him…and how he came to procure them."

"Is that right?" Heihachi asked as he looked at his reflection from the polished gold. "What did he tell you?"

"He told me that he struck a deal with Devil after you tossed him off a cliff," Jun answered with a hint of disdain in her voice, causing Heihachi to turn his head towards the young woman with a raised eyebrow. Seeing that she had Heihachi's attention, the young woman sniffed as she attempted to maintain her composure. "When I asked you about his childhood, you told me that mistakes were made, and I thought it would be something simple…but when I learned about the horrible things that you did on top of throwing him off of a cliff, I must admit that my opinion of you changed drastically."

"I have thought back to that moment many times, young lady," Heihachi replied as he put the trophy down and walked towards Jun. "When Kazuya left my grip and fell into that ravine, I knew immediately that I made a horrible mistake: one that I would never be able to correct. However, when Kazuya climbed up the ravine and returned to my home using nothing but his own two hands and feet, my heart soared. I thought for sure that my son had exceeded all of my expectations of him and my horrible mistake was a blessing in disguise."

"You did something horrible to him, and he held it against you for the rest of his life," Jun added, surprising even Heihachi with the coldness in her voice. "If you had made peace with Kazuya, instead of letting his hatred fester, you could have put an end to the vendetta that consumed his life. You even had a chance to do so yesterday…and yet you did something even worse: you threw him into a volcano and killed him."

"…you had feelings for my son," Heihachi whispered, with Jun slowly nodding her head once in confirmation. "You didn't kiss him as some last-ditch effort to make him bend to your ways. You kissed him because you were attracted to him. Tell me, Jun…was the feeling mutual?"

"I…am really not comfortable talking about this with you," Jun replied after a pause as she turned around to walk out the door. Rather than allow her to leave, Heihachi walked in front of her and crossed his arms, making his intimidating presence known. "Mr. Mishima…please get out of my way," the young woman said as she held back tears. "This is not something I want to talk about right now."

"Ms. Kazama, if you were romantically linked to my son, I must know for certain whether or not will you try and seek vengeance upon me for what I did to him," Heihachi said with utmost seriousness, confirming Jun's suspicions. "I want to help you, Jun, as a thank you for what you tried to do with him…but if you want me to trust you, you're going to have to trust me."

"…after our battle, Kazuya told me that he had spent his entire life solving everything with his fists. When he turned those fists on me, however, he claimed that they were mute: I was a mystery that he couldn't solve. He then told me that he looked forward to learning more about me, and understanding me," Jun began as she remembered the evening that they clashed in the tournament. "Kazuya led me to a cabin he heard near the site of the battle, and we bore our souls to one another. We told stories about past fights, childhood tales, training regimens…"

"…is that all?" Heihachi asked as he put a hand on Jun's shoulder. "How intimate did the two of you become? Surely that kiss wasn't the end of it." Taking note of Jun's trembling, the King of Iron Fists pressed onward. "Something that happened after that, didn't it? Tell me what happened, Jun…as his father, this is something I must know!"

*SLAP*

Fed up with Heihachi's curiosity over such a delicate situation, Jun lifted her palm and applied to the man's face, delivering a swift slap that had such force that it literally knocked the spit from his mouth. "Why would you care about such a thing?" Jun asked with her voice and eyes as cold as man they were discussing. "Kazuya Mishima is dead: we both played a part in his demise. If you have any respect for your son, you would leave such lewd implications out of our conversation!"

"It starts with a slap," Heihachi said out loud as he rubbed his cheek, "but it can soon evolve into a broken spine, or a shattered skull. I can tell from your reaction that his death troubles you greatly…and from the sound of it, it has every right to. That is why I shall try and make right by you and help you in any way I can." Stepping to the side so Jun could head for the elevator, Heihachi outstretched his hand to let her by. "If there is anything that you need from me, I will use all of my resources to accommodate you. It is the least I could do for trying to help my troubled son."

"That is very generous of you, Heihachi," Jun replied quietly as she slowly walked to the elevator and pressed the down button. "If I have a need for your services, I will remember that the offer is on the table…but for now, I do not need nor want your charity. I do not even want to see or hear from you until I find it in my heart to forgive both of us for our transgressions."

"Take your time: there is no expiration date on my offer," Heihachi nodded his head as he turned towards the window and began walking towards it to go back to looking over his city. "You are an exceptional woman, Jun: perhaps if things turned out differently, you would have made a fine in-law: one that I would have gladly called my own."

----------

_2 hours later…_

Once she had returned from the Zaibatsu tower and to her hotel, Jun thought long and hard about the verbal joust she had with the man that had taken away Kazuya from her. Although Heihachi acted like the two of them were friends, Kazuya's death was a metaphorical gorilla in the corner of the room that watched over them like a sentry. Jun told herself many times that Heihachi was not a bad person, but someone who was overly extreme in his methods and commanded respect wherever he went, and those who earned his respect were treated like kings in his presence. Heihachi could have laughed in Jun's face when he heard about her tryst with Kazuya, but he instead praised her efforts and offered her a laurel of friendship.

That is what Jun told herself, but the more she thought about the conversation, the more she wondered what would have happened if Heihachi had attacked her instead. If that had been the case, Jun would have been forced to defend herself and what would have been a peaceful talk would have turned into a heated battle. She wasn't sure whether or not she would have won the fight, but Jun would have at the very least tried to make a lasting impression that Heihachi would not soon forget, perhaps with a broken arm from an armbar, or a broken foot from a heel hook. When Jun lost her temper, something that she rarely did, and slapped Heihachi, she was almost counting on a fight to break out.

_The worst part is, I think there's a part of me that wanted violence, _Jun thought as she watched the birds sit on the ledge next to her on the rooftop of her hotel. _I was very close to reforming Kazuya before Heihachi killed him: he had already begun to realize that keeping Devil within his body was not in his best interest. As angry as I am with myself for leaving Kazuya in the dark, I am still very disappointed in Heihachi for killing him. _Looking at her hand and clenching it into a fist, Jun's lips curled back into a snarl. _How petty am I to be thinking such thoughts about someone who wants to be my friend? Heihachi is someone that I respect, and yet when he comes to mind, all I see is him underneath my shoe, begging for mercy before I crush his windpipe. How can I be so cruel in my thoughts, after everything I've taught Kazuya?_

Upon hearing the flapping of wings, Jun turned her head to see that the birds were flying away after seeming to be infatuated with her presense. "You have every right to be scared," Jun said quietly as she hung her head in shame. "My father warned me that getting close to Kazuya would taint the purity of my Kazama blood, and he was right. Now that Kazuya is out of my life, all I can think is about is violence…"

"_That is not necessarily a bad thing, Jun Kazama."_

Slowly lifting her head upon hearing a voice that she hoped never to hear again, Jun turned around and saw a sight that found equally as appalling: a winged purple demon descending onto the rooftop, his red eyes glowing. "…impossible," Jun whispered after a pause. "You are not real, because you were connected to Kazuya. Now that he is gone, you should not be here…"

"_Normally, that would be the case," _the being known as Devil said as he folded his arms. _"Since Kazuya was my host body, his death would have meant that I would be without a shell to inhabit and leave me formless…but fate works in mysterious ways." _A cruel smile formed on the demon's face as he continued speaking. _"When I realized that Kazuya was about to die, I retreated from his body and left him to fend for himself against Heihachi…something that he failed miserably at. Now I have a new body to inhabit...one that you will provide."_

"What are you talking about?" Jun asked as Devil began to walk towards her, causing her to assume her fighting stance. "You took control of Kazuya's body and tried to murder me. Why would I do anything for you?"

"_When you seduced Kazuya and made love to him, you allowed yourself to become impregnated by him," _Devil exclaimed as he pointed his finger to Jun's midsection. _"In the process, Kazuya transferred a fraction of my essence into you. There is much more to me than just ethereal spirit energy: when I merge with a human, I also change their genetic structure."_

"So, what you're telling me is that Kazuya's child is within me, and with it, a fraction of your power." Jun summarized, looking down at her tummy before looking back up and staring at Devil with defiant eyes. "What makes you think that I am going to let you anywhere near me or my child? Do you think I am going to bend to your will after all of the heartache you caused me!?"

"_I admit, I was much too rash in wishing for your demise," _Devil replied nonchalantly as Jun stepped to the side to step away from the ledge that she was cornered in, to which the demon turned his head to continue following her. _"At first, I was worried that I would be shut out by Kazuya because of the weak emotions that he was being flooded with by your presense. Seeing you like this, however, saddened by my former host's death and angered by the way he died…well, it makes you a very attractive host."_

"You don't know what you're talking about," Jun replied coldly. "There is nothing that I could possibly want from you?"

"_Not even revenge against Heihachi for taking Kazuya away from you?" _Devil countered with a confident smirk, his smile widening as Jun widened her eyes. _"Even now, you radiate with grief over how a father would slay his own son…a son that you grew attached to. Unfortuantely, even with all of your mighty strength, you could not hope to defeat Heihachi on your own." _Outstretching his hand as he continued to walk closer, Devil tilted his head as Jun stopped evading him. _"With my help, you will have a son who will be able to avenge Kazuya. I will even grant you the power to delivering the finishing blow yourself. What better way to honor your lover's memory by succeeding where he left off and killing Heihachi?"_

With Jun standing perfectly still, Devil came within an arm's reach of her and prepared to touch her. "If I allow Devil into my body…then I can finish what Kazuya began and kill Heihachi. The Mishima bloodline now flows within me via my child…can I really let that demon enter my womb so that I can avenge Kazuya's demise?" Jun said out loud as she closed her eyes, pondering what to do. Just as Devil was about to place his hand on her head, Jun opened her eyes and lifted her hands to shove the demon away. "NO! I will not accept that!"

"_AGH,"_ Devil roared as he stepped back and looked down at where Jun had shoved him. Normally, such a shove would not faze him, but Jun's hands left a literally impression in his pectoral muscles. It was like her hands were actually hot irons and Devil had been branded. _"Insolent whore! I offered you a chance to willingly accept me, and this is the thanks I get!? How did you hurt me so much!?"_

"'The power to drive away spirits,'" Jun repeated what her father had told her earlier in the day as she resumed her fighting stance. "This is the power that runs through my veins: it is poison to those who are born of darkness like you are, Devil. I warn you: leave me and my child alone or I will not hesitate to strike you down."

"_Do you really think that you can overpower me, woman?" _ Devil growled as he lifted his wings and dashed towards Jun with his hand raised. _"I have been in this world for generations upon generations, and it will take more than a mewling puke like you to make me cower! The most you can do is hold still while I enter your womb and wait until I rise again!"_

Lifting her hands to defend herself, Jun collided with Devil and locked her fingers around his to become deadlocked with the entity. "You tell me that by allowing you into my body, I will honor Kazuya's memory," Jun stared into the hellish eyes of the demon without fear or uncertainty, although any sane person would cower in the presence of such a beast. "You disgrace me with your lies: if you stayed out of Kazuya's battle with Heihachi, he might still be alive! I entered this tournament to rid the world of the evil power that surrounded him, which was you…now I finally have the chance to do so!"

"_Do not speak to me like your hands are bloodless," _Devil growled back as he pushed forward. _"You knew that Heihachi was still alive, and yet you told Kazuya nothing. You even had a vision of him dying by Heihachi's hand, and still you left him in the dark. Jun Kazama, you led Kazuya to slaughter with a blindfold around his eyes. If anyone should be paying for their crimes, it's you!"_

"I will atone for my sins in my own way," Jun retorted as she fell down to one knee as Devil started to get the upper hand. "Even if…I must give up my own life to do it, I will make sure that you will not do the same to Kazuya's child what you did to him! No matter what happens, you will not have your way with me, or anyone else ever again!"

"_Strong words from someone who is on their knees," _Devil said he brought his face closer to the young woman's. _"The time for games is over: I will now enter your womb and bide my time until I am ready to be whole again. When that times comes, I shall burst forth from your stomach and leave you for dead while I-URK!" _Devil's tirade was cut short when a fist suddenly burst forth from his stomach in a similar manner to what he was intending to do to Jun, causing him to turn his head around to see a familiar blonde-haired figure wearing a koolaid-red gi and an annoyed look on his face. _"It's you…you shouldn't be able to see me, much less-"_

"I can't see ya, but I can sure as hell hear ya rambling on," Paul Phoenix interrupted, his voice unusually solemn. "I lost a good rival yesterday, and I hear you and this lady talking about him nonstop. I honestly don't know much about demons and aliens and stuff like that, and I could care less about what Kazuya did to himself to make him as messed up as he was…" Looking past Devil (since he could not be seen by Paul) and at Jun, the hot-blooded fighter's face went from solemn to angry, "…but if you mess with a lady, you better believe that you're messin' with Paul Phoenix, too!"

Recognizing an opportunity when she saw one, Jun let go of Devil's hand and reached out to grab onto his face, eliciting a demonic shrill cry from the entity as she squeezed as hard as she could. She did not say any parting words to the creature as she literally ripped his face off, revealing a bright purple light coming from Devil's head. All she thought about was protecting the only thing she had left to remember the true Kazuya by, and expelling the thing that drove a wedge between them and kept them from getting close than they could, and probably should have.

As Devil's body devolved into an ethereal light and flew away, he gave Jun one final warning. _"This is only a temporary measure. Your child will possess my DNA whether I am present or not…and sooner or later, that DNA will emerge to create a monster completely independent from my will. This monster will run wild, destroying anything it sees…and you will not be able to do anything to stop it. May that haunt you for the rest of your days!"_

_Don't count on it, demon, _Jun thought as she slowly stood up and recollected herself. _As long as I still breathe, I will make sure that doesn't happen. _"Mr. Phoenix," Jun said aloud as she looked to her savior, putting her hand on his shoulder. "I do not know how you did it, but you saved me from someone that could have destroyed the world had you not intervened. I cannot begin to thank you enough…"

"Ah, forget it," Paul said with a thin smile as he patted Jun on the shoulder. "I was just sick of hearing about the wacky story of the Mishimas. Rumor has it that you and Kazuya had a thing going for one another…and anyone who can make that son of a bitch smile in a way that doesn't creep people out is OK in my book." Turning around towards the door of the rooftop, the American straightened his brush-like hair and started walking out. "So, someone told me that you've got a taste for booze. Want to go for a few brews?"

"…maybe next time," Jun said with a thin smile as she placed her hand on her stomach, thinking about the life that was now beating within her. "I have to watch what I put in my body now…"


	17. Epilogue Pt 1: Loose Ends

"What do you mean, 'she's not here!?'"

"It's just as I said, sir," the hotel clerk told Paul as his heart sank and his lip began to tremble. "Nina Williams has not returned to her hotel room for some time. We have been unable to reach her so far, so we are currently cleaning her room and keeping her belongings for safe-keeping until she returns. We apologize for any concern that you might have for your friend, but there is nothing we can do!"

"It's just like I told you, Paul," Marshall said as Paul turned around with his head hung low. "A lady like her is just trouble. She'll stand you up for everything you're worth and then leave you with nothing! You should consider yourself lucky that you never got a chance to take her out on a date, because you've saved yourself the heartache!"

"If you're trying to make me feel better, you're failing miserably," Paul grumbled as he picked up his duffel bag and started heading out the door of the hotel. "Nina said she'd go out on a date with me if I went undefeated throughout the tournament, and I did! Just because traffic didn't let me finish doesn't mean that I got knocked out, so as far as I'm concerned, the deal still stands!"

"Why are you so obsessed about it, Paul?" Marshall asked as he tried to keep up with his friend stomping away. "Back home, you always go for whoever you can take when it comes to girls. While I don't necessarily approve of this kind of lifestyle, at least it works for you. Now you're trying to stalk a certified viper hoping that she doesn't strangle you: what's with the sudden change of heart?"

"…Marshall," Paul said quietly as he put his hand on Marshall's shoulder. "Since you were lucky enough to get married early on, I don't expect you to understand the loneliness of a bachelor. I think I'm just about that age where I should start looking for some more long-term relationships, and I really want to make this thing I have going with Nina work out."

"What thing?" Marshall asked, exasperated by his friend's stubbornness. "She told you that she'd consider dating you if you won the tournament, and you didn't! What makes you think she won't just give you another punt in the crotch like she did during the tournament? You're being irrational!"

"I know it's crazy of me to say things like this, but I have to at least try," Paul ignored Marshall's question and rambled on as if he were monologuing. "The other day, I heard that Nina and her sister have got some real problems…problems like shooting each other in broad daylight and putting bombs in their cars. After hearing about all of the family problems the Mishimas have, it just wouldn't be very proper of me to turn a blind eye to these kinds of things! If I can just get involved in Nina's life, maybe I can be the middle man between her and her sister!"

"Ugh, again about the Mishimas?" Marshall put his palm to his face and shook his head. "Paul, I understand that you're upset that you lost, but-"

"DISQUALIFIED," Paul shouted abruptedly, causing Marshall and everyone else in the room to look in his direction. "I was DISQUALIFIED from the tournament: I didn't lose to anyone! I suggest you get your facts straight, Marshall, or it'll be a knuckle sandwich to your face!" Shoving his fist in Marshall's face, Paul shook it forebodingly. "I know how much you love to cook and eat, but you'll be eating fried rice through a straw if-"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Marshall said nervously as he pushed Paul's hands down, noticing the strange looks he was getting from the other people in the hotel. "I'm sorry that you were disqualified, Paul, but you shouldn't get involved in family vendettas. There's an old saying that blood runs thicker than oil, and with family vendettas, a more apt analogy would be blood running thicker than paste. If you put yourself between family feuds, you'll be forced to pick a side and be dragged into it, with no way to get out. Is that what you want?"

"I have to at least try," Paul snapped back as he stepped through the door of the hotel and entered the outdoors. "The King of Iron Fist Tournament is being tainted by these blood feuds and vendettas. It's supposed to be about deciding who is the best of the best: personal grudges don't have a place in such a great tournament! That's what I told Heihachi, and that's what I'm going to tell Nina and her sister…as soon as I can find her."

"She's probably already left the country, onto her next job," Marshall told his friend as he shifted his weight to support his heavy backpack. "Speaking of which, we should probably book a flight back to the United States. I want to get back soon so I can continue repairing the dojo: Baek offered to help, but I still don't try that guy after what he's done. I want you to be there with me so you can keep an eye on him in case he tries anything funny."

"…yeah," Paul said after a sigh as he looked up into the clouds. "I guess I'll just have to wait until the next tournament until I see Nina again. Someday, Marshall, I'm going to get that date, and then I'll go on to properly win the tournament! Once I'm the champ, I'll put an end to all of the personal vendettas going around so that we can have a real tournament for glory and prestige…and not about stupid blood feuds!"

"You might not have to wait until the next tournament," an unknown voice called out to the two Americans, causing them to turn around to see a strongly-built man wearing a tuxedo and a pair of sunglasses.

"Uh…sorry, but who are you again?" Paul asked with a raised eyebrow as he tilted his head to see if the person was anyone he knew from a different angle. "I don't think I saw you at the tournament…"

"Oh, I wasn't a competitor," the man said as he outstretched his hand in friendship. "I work for the Mishima Zaibatsu, and I overheard your conversation about the Williams sisters. Since Heihachi spoke very highly of both of you, Misters Paul Phoenix and Marshall Law, I do not believe it is out of the question that I can bring you to the sisters. They are currently at one of our laboratories a few miles from here, and I would be happy to lead you to them."

"Oh…cool," Paul said after a pause as he walked towards the stranger and shook the man's hand. "Maybe you Zaibatsu guys aren't so bad, after all! Here I thought all of you were stuck-up because you guys have awesome salaries and pucker up to kiss the ass of whoever is running the show…but if you're offering me a ride to someone I've been looking for, then I guess I was wrong!"

"Paul, I don't think this is a good idea," Marshall leaned over to his blonde friend and whispered in his ear. "Every run-in we've had with the Zaibatsu hasn't exactly be a pleasant one. What if this guy is going to drag us right into a trap and they lock us up in a hole somewhere? You can't be too careful of these guys!"

"If they try anything funny, we'll kick their butts," Paul whispered back, although when Marshall looked at the man in sunglasses, his body language and raised eyebrow indicated that he heard Paul just fine. "It'll be just like that time when that biker gang offered to take us out for drinks, and then tried to shake us down. We kicked their butts and put dumpsters over their heads, and they never bothered us again!"

"But that was just a street gang: this is a multi-billion dollar corporation specializing in military technology," Marshall whispered back. "Even if we did beat them up, they'd hunt us down all across the globe! They'd put bounties on our heads and then all sorts of trash will come up from the woodwork and try to kill us! Do you really want to invite that kind of trouble: the worst of the worst at your doorstep wanting nothing better than to cut your head off so that they can exchange it for money?"

"…yeah," Paul said with a dreamy smile as he envisioned himself in the pit of violence that Marshall was describing. "The scum of the world gathered at my favorite bar wanting to throw down. The barkeep will tell me, 'don't let these punks ruin my place,' and all of the bar girls will beg their big strong hero to save them from the lecherous clutches of the thugs. A few Burning Death Fists later…"

"I can assure the both of you that we have no intention of causing you any harm," the man in the sunglasses finally interrupted the not-so-secretive conversation and placed his hands on their shoulders. "That might have been the old way of the Zaibatsu, but Heihachi Mishima intends to rectify the mistakes that his son made. In order to extend a laurel to those brave enough to enter his tournament, he asks that we, as his employees, accommodate you in any way we can."

"Don't worry, Marshall baby: your big brother Paul will take care of you," Paul said mockingly as he gave Marshall a rough noogie before following the man with the sunglasses. "So, Zaibatsu goon, why is Nina hanging out with you guys? Last I heard, she was trying to assassinate Kazuya and was planning to break into the Zaibatsu tower. Did she decide to play nice with you guys now that Kazuya's kicked the bucket?"

"You could say that," the man with the sunglasses said with a mischievious smirk as he walked up to a limousine and tapped on the driver's side window. After the window rolled down to reveal a second man in sunglasses, the first man waved hello to singal the driver to unlock the passenger doors. Upon opening the doors so Paul and Marshall could get inside, the man in the sunglasses followed them inside and continued explaining. "The two sisters volunteered to participate in an experiment that we hope will provide a new breakthrough for medicine. Without their help, I'm not sure we would be able to conduct this experiment that will surely save countless lives once we perfect the process."

"Huh…that doesn't sound so bad," Marshall nodded his head in slight fascination, expecting to hear that Nina had murdered dozens of people rather than willingly give herself up to them. "What kind of experiment are we talking about? Is it a cure for cancer, or a vaccination for some horrible disease?"

-------

_1 hour later…_

"Cryosleep!? What the hell is that!?"

Paul couldn't help but voice his disbelief once he finally saw the person he was looking for, slumbering naked in a glass tube with her body surrounded by a thin layer of ice and frost. He and Marshall had been taken to a research facility on the outskirts of Tokyo, where the man with sunglasses promised them they would find the Williams sisters. When Paul heard that Nina was partaking in an experiment, he expected her to be hooked up to a tube after giving blood, or something simple like that. Instead she was frozen like a slab of meat, and locked in a tube like some strange science-fiction movie.

"I told you, cryosleep is what we hope to be the Zaibatsu's contribution to the field of medicine," the man with the sunglasses explained as Paul tapped on the glass to see if Nina would react, only for her to continue to remain motionless with her eyes closed. "The Williams sisters are currently in a state of suspended animation: they will remain young and beautiful within the capsule, not aging a day. Their life cycle will resume whenever their cryosleep ends."

"And when will that be?" Marshall added as he got up from the tube that belonged to Nina's sister Anna and walked over to the man with the sunglasses.

"Unfortunately, the professor who invented this is no longer with us," the Zaibatsu employee hung his head low in disappointment. "Some fiend hijacked his helicopter as he was being transferred to another department and made off with him. Our people are still looking for him, but until we find him, we don't know how long they're going to be like this. It's a real shame."

"So you mean she's stuck in there until who knows when?" Paul asked before taking a few steps back and charging his lemon-yellow ki. "Hold on, Nina: ol' Paul Phoenix will get you out of there in a second!"

"Whoa whoa WHOA," the man in the sunglasses suddenly sprang into action and grabbed Paul's arm as he reared back for a punch. "Right now, that lady is in a deep state of cryogenic sleep. If you break her out without thawing her out, you're not only going to shatter the tube, but the woman, as well! Do you really want frozen human bits strewn across the floor…because when that dries out, it's going to smell to high heaven!"

"Well, I have to do something," Paul said as he shoved the man's hand away and got down on his knees and hands to scan the floor. "There's got to be a plug going into an outlet that gives this stuff power. If I cut the power, then maybe she'll defrost and wake up! I do the same thing to my portable refrigerator whenever I move it around: I just pull the plug and wait for the ice to melt!"

"The cryosleep chamber doesn't work like that," the man with the sunglasses said as he put his palm to his face in exasperation. "By the way, would you mind telling me why you've been looking for Nina? Heihachi said I should offer my services to tournament competitors in any way I can…but I think I should at least know why you were looking for her in the first place. Does she owe you money?"

"She promised me a date if I went undefeated," Paul replied as he stood back up and dusted himself off. "Since I was technically disqualified rather than getting knocked out, that means that the date still stands. Paul Phoenix isn't a guy who goes back on deals, after all…"

"...hey, don't take this the wrong way," the Zaibatsu employee finally took off his sunglasses and put them in his pocket, "but if she owes you carnal favors, you could just undo the lid of the cryosleep chamber. She would still be frozen, and chances are it would be really uncomfortable for your boys, but at least you'd get what you deserve, right?"

"…THAT'S GROSS," Paul exclaimed with such force that both Marshall and the Zaibatsu employee jumped up. "What in the hell made you come up with that idea!? Were you planning on trying that yourself, you sicko!?" Before the Zaibatsu employee could answer, the hot-blooded fighter walked away from the cryosleep chamber and towards the exit. "Come on, Marshall: I'm done hanging around this meat freezer."

"Yeah, this place creeps me out," Marshall nodded his head in agreement and caught up with his friend, with the Zaibatsu employee following close behind them. "So, are we going to go to the airport and head home now?"

"Not just yet," Paul replied with his eyes narrowing. "There's someone I have to see before I leave…"

---------

_Another hour later…_

Although Heihachi was the newly-crowned champion of the King of Iron Fist Tournament, he had made very few public appearances since his victory. As the returning head of the Mishima Zaibatsu, the wily martial artist was still under heavy scrutiny thanks to the previous regime. Kazuya had left a mark on the world that wouldn't soon be washed away, and being that Kazuya was Heihachi's son, the world at large watched the Zaibatsu with a wary eye. After all, there were plenty of rumors going around that Heihachi also wanted to rule the world before his son dethroned him in the first King of Iron Fist tournament, so what was to stop him from trying again?

_The world no longer respects the name 'Mishima,' but curses it, _Heihachi thought as he stepped out of his limousine and into the cherry blossom storm that was being kicked up by the winds. _Until I can regain the trust of those in power, I shall be watched under the metaphorical microscope, which means I will have to tread very carefully. _Stepping through the cherry blossoms and undeterred by how they brushed against his face, the reigning King of Iron Fists spotted a familiar tree and headed towards it. _For now, I shall lay low until I declare my intentions._

Once he had reached the tree, Heihachi was covered in its shade, which allowed a smile to creep up on his face. "Hello, Kazume," the middle-aged man said as he knelt down onto one knee and bowed his head. "I am sorry to disturb you so soon after apologizing to you earlier, but I thought it would be appropriate for me to apologize to you again." After a moment's pause, Heihachi sniffed and lowered his head further. "No…the more appropriate term would be to beg for your forgiveness. This tree is the location of where I first met you almost thirty years ago. After you died, I visited this tree annually to speak to you…but as of late I have come here to tell you of the terrible things I intended to do to our son Kazuya, and what I have done is the most terrible thing of all."

Slowly lifting his head upon feeling a gentle breeze beat against him, the reigning King of Iron Fists continued. "When I last came here, I told you that if things went poorly, I would bring an end to Kazuya's life. During the final battle of the tournament, things did indeed go poorly: Kazuya succumbed to his demon in an attempt to cheat his way to final victory. I could not let his perversion of the family name go on…so I tossed him into a volcano and ended his life. For that, you have my deepest apologies: I can only hope that God was merciful to his miserable soul and he is with you now."

A single cherry blossom gently fell from the tree and onto Heihachi's nose, causing him to open his eyes and see what the tree had given him. "Do not mourn too much, Kazume," Heihachi said out loud, as if his deceased wife was actually speaking to him. "I intend to atone for my sins against you by using the Zaibatsu's power to make a difference in the world. When I held the first King of Iron Fist Tournament, I had plotted to lead the world into a new age by amassing an army, but after watching Kazuya pervert this plan into something unmistakably vile, I realize that my dreams of world conquest require modifications. Instead of ushering in an era of peace through war, I shall do so through war prevention."

Lifting his knee and standing back up, Heihachi inhaled and exhaled deeply while once again closing his eyes. "With my vast wealth, I shall form an elite group of soldiers known as the Tekken Force. Rather than use this elite force to start wars, however, I shall use them to prevent them. I will personally train each of these soldiers so that they can perform the tasks necessary to end all wars."

Heihachi's eyes suddenly snapped open as he tossed a sharply-honed punch into the air, kicking up a strong wind and sending the cherry blossoms on the ground scattering in the direction of the wind. "They shall come in droves to the vilest of battlefields and quell the chaos therein. My Tekken Force will not take sides: their loyalties will lie only with the path that leads to the fewest casualties and the quickest outcome. After they stop whatever war they are assigned to, they will then mend the damage done by the ravages of conflict via politics and medicine. They will provide food for the hungry, medicine for the sick, and shelter for the homeless." Looking at his fist by holding it close to his face, the head of the Zaibatsu strengthened his resolve. "I am once again the King of Iron Fists, but the fist is only but one shape the hand can take. Not only can the hand destroy things by way of the fist…but it can nurture and heal with the fist is released to reveal an open palm."

Opening his hand, Heihachi turned towards the tree and placed his hands to his side and bowed once again. "Kazume, I shall use the power of the Zaibatsu to achieve the world peace that we always wished for. My pride in my family name caused my son to slip away from my grasp, so I shall devote myself instead to bringing about unity. I might not be able to live long enough to appreciate the fruits of my labor, but that makes no difference. All that matters is making the world safe for a new generation, and that shall be my first decree as the returning King of Iron Fists." After completing his bow, Heihachi turned around and began to walk away from the tree. "Farewell, Kazume. Hopefully the next time we talk, it will be under more pleasant circumstances…"

"Heihachi!"

Looking up to the sound of someone calling his name, Heihachi raised an eyebrow to see a familiar young man wearing a black leather jacket and matching pants. "Mr. Phoenix," Heihachi identified the man and folded his arms. "I am impressed that you were able to track me down, considering I did not tell many people where I was going today. What is it that I can do for you, young man?"

"That match you promised me," Paul said as he wiped his nose and assumed his fighting stance. "You said that I should come look for you after the tournament is over, so here I am! I don't like leaving loose ends hanging, so before I go back home to the States, I figure I might as well trade fists with you to see who would have won if we actually had a chance to fight."

"Paul," a Chinese-American man called out and ran next to the blonde fighter, taking a moment to catch his breath before continuing. "Are you sure you want to do this? This guy took out Kazuya, someone that you were only about to get a draw with! What will happen if you get hospitalized and we're stuck here longer than we have to be?"

"If that is what happens, then the Zaibatsu shall cover all expenses," Heihachi interjected as Paul shoved his friend away and resumed his fighting stance while the reigning King of Iron Fists assumed his own stance. "Paul Phoenix is my invited guest, and I shall treat him as such." After crackling with his lightning-like ki, a grin formed as the karateka's face. "Come, young man…let's see what you're made of."

As Paul nodded his head and charged towards Heihachi with his fist raised, the Japanese man smiled to himself as he and his opponent simultaneously let their right hands fly towards their opponent for their respective "Death Fist" attacks. _I shall pave a new world for the new generation, but I shall not let the young ones just pass me by, _Heihachi thought as the two fighter's fists whiffed over each other's shoulders, creating a strong buffeting wind. _As long as I can lift my hands, I shall crush all oncomers, regardless of who they are, where they come from, how old they are, or what makes them think they can face! So is the decree of Heihachi Mishima…the true King of Iron Fists!_


	18. Epilogue Pt 2: Farewell

"_Remind me again why we are here," _Devil asked as his host Kazuya continued wading through the high grass of the forest. _"I was under the impression that you never wanted anything more to do with the Kazama name. Why are we here on this godforsaken island when our time could be better spent plotting our revenge?"_

"I thought we established that you are not the boss of me," Kazuya growled back as he wiped the sweat from his face. The heat of Yakushima island seemed particularly nasty on this hot summer day, even for someone who had once experienced being thrown into a volcano. "We are here because I wish to be here. That is all you need to know, and any interference on your part shall be dealt with harshly."

"_Hmph…I see death hasn't made you any more submissive," _Devil replied with a scoff while Kazuya continued navigating through the grass. _"When Heihachi tossed you into that volcano four years ago, I would have thought that would have been the end of you. Obviously, fate smiled on you that day when those foolish scientists fished your body out of the mountain and breathed life back into your body. At first I was unsure as to whether or not I would be allowed in, but you welcomed me back with open arms."_

"I have not forgotten our deal, demon," Kazuya responded as he finally stepped out of the grass and onto the dirt road. "You told me that as long as Heihachi still breathed, you would lend me your power. Now that G-Corporation has told me of the existence of the Devil Gene, I will require your presence to gain mastery of it. Heihachi defeated me once before: I will not let the same thing happen again."

"_Then remind me what we are doing here," _Devil repeated his question, causing Kazuya to stop walking and listen to what Devil had to say. _"In order for you to master the power that I have granted you, you must abandon everything good and decent in your heart. By coming here to Yakushima, where that accursed Jun Kazama has taken residence, you jeopardize your training."_

"…I am not entirely sure myself as to why this is a good idea," Kazuya said as he looked up at the trees. "During the second tournament, Jun told me that you did not have my best interests in mind, and wished to remove you from my psyche. When she arrived, that Angel being had been advocating a similar exorcism. What they were suggesting seemed like a good idea at the time, so I played along."

"_Obviously their advice was flawed," _Devil added with a hint of arrogance. _"As soon as I left you alone, Heihachi trounced you and almost put an end to your ungrateful existence. Without the power of the Devil Gene, Kazuya, you are nothing but an ordinary human with ordinary potential. I do hope you will not try anything as foolish as biting the hand that feeds you again."_

"Angel has remained quiet since my resurrection, so I do not believe she will be troubling either of us again," Kazuya continued as he looked down on the ground to see a single sunflower. Lifting his foot and stomping on the flower, the Cold-Blooded Prince grinded it underneath the heel of his sneaker. "Until Heihachi is gone, I will exorcise anything that is good and decent in my heart. There shall be only evil…only power, because power is everything. If I want to obtain the power of absolute evil, I will need to say farewell to the one shred of mercy in my heart…and that is Jun Kazama."

"_Ah, the possibility of what might have been," _Devil mused while Kazuya finished destroying the flower and continued down the narrow dirt path. _"Had it been any other woman, they would have cowered in our combined presence. Jun Kazama, on the other hand, approached without fear or restraint: she knew full well what we were capable of and still she made her case. Before then, you would have dismissed anyone who preached what she preached…but Jun was a mystery to you: you couldn't help but be fascinated by her, just as she was fascinated by you."_

"I must see her one final time," Kazuya explained as he quickened his pace. "Jun Kazama was indirectly responsible for my downfall, and she is to be considered a threat. After I meet her again, I will have officially turned my back on my old life, and the two of us can go our separate ways. We will be forever parallel to one another, our paths never to cross again."

"_That seems like a very strange plan," _Devil commented as Kazuya's brisk walk became a light jog as there seemed to be no end to the dirt trail in sight. _"It would have been easier to forget about her entirely by not even revealing your continued existence to her. It seems to me that you are going to visit her because you still yearn for her: if that is the case, then there is still much that you have to learn…_

"In that case," Kazuya slowed down until he reached a stop, his curiosity piqued by his other half's words, "how about you tell me what it is I have to learn? If you claim to be my mentor for all of these years, it is your job to be an effective teacher."

"_If you must feel compelled to see her one final time, make sure that it is the last time you see her," _Devil advised as Kazuya folded his arms. _"Go to her house, which is probably at the end of this dirt road as there aren't many people who live in this backwater island, and lure her into a false sense of security. Tell her that you wish to go back to the way things were, and she will listen for she is soft. Then, just as she turns her back to you…plunge your hand into her body and rip out her heart. With her out of the way, there will be nothing left to stop you for achieving the zenith of our power."_

Kazuya was silent as he pondered Devil's words, picturing the scenario of what would happen should he find Jun and take the route suggested by his other half. The blood soaking his body and hand, the terrified look in Jun's eyes as she fell to the ground lifeless, the overall sense of finality in the air. Had it been anyone else, Kazuya would have let loose an evil chuckle of victory…but as he imagined the scene happening, a frown formed on his face. He had thought he had abandoned the weaker emotion of guilt from his psyche, but remnants of it resurfaced as his dark fantasy took form.

Hearing the sound of rustling leaves, Kazuya's head darted to the left to see movement within the tall grass. "Who is there?" Kazuya called out as he turned the rest of his body around and assumed his fighting stance. "Come on out and face me, stranger! Otherwise I will go over there and drag you out…and trust me when I say that you do not want me to do that!"

Hearing what Kazuya told him, the source of the movement quickly emerged from the grass only to stumble and fall flat on his face right as Kazuya's feet. The Cold-Blooded Prince did not expect to run into anyone on his journey apart from Jun, but lying at his feet was a small Japanese boy with black hair that, strangely enough, went up into a point just like his. He was wearing a simple white shirt and black shorts, and clearly was not any threat to Kazuya. "Owwww," the boy groaned as he pushed himself off the ground and fought back tears before looking up at Kazuya and bowing his head. "Sorry, mister. I hope I didn't scare you."

"…do I know you from somewhere, little one?" Kazuya said as he got down onto one knee so that he did not tower over the boy, though even kneeling down he was still taller. "I cannot help but shake the feeling that we have run into each other in the past…" Reaching out and putting his the boy's chin between his thumb and index finger, Kazuya gently moved the boy's head from side to side, examining him carefully. The first thing he noticed was that Jin did not flinch at his touch, despite how he was a total stranger with numerous scars across his face. It was this fearlessness, combined with the several familiar features that clued Kazuya in as to the boy's identity. "Impossible…can this be…?"

"_That is the child I was telling you about," _Devil filed in the blanks for Kazuya as he continued to look at the boy, fascinated by the resemblance between the child and himself. _"While you were wasting away in the volcano, I attempted to enter the unborn child that you and Jun conceived. Unfortunately, I underestimated that woman's power, and that is why I am currently back with you, with only a fraction of myself remaining. The rest of us, it seems, is still inside that boy."_

"'The rest of us?'" Kazuya repeated out loud, causing the young boy to look up at him confusedly. "Is that why I lost to Heihachi during the last tournament: because I had transferred a fraction of my power to Jun and thus was not fighting at full strength even when I transformed? Why did you not tell me this sooner, you fool!? Were you leading me to slaughter, you treacherous lout!?"

"Mister, are you talking to me?" the young boy asked innocently before pointing at the most obvious scar Kazuya had to show for his past life: a left eye that glowed bright red. "You have a very pretty eye…"

"_Like yourself, I only look for the most advantageous opportunities: at the time, remaining with you was disadvantageous," _Devil explained as Kazuya removed his hand from the little boy's chin. _"Fortunately for us, there is a way we can restore our lost power. By tapping into our mental union, we can draw out the Devil Gene within this boy like poison from a wound. Of course, I doubt the boy will be able to survive the process considering how young he is…but isn't that what you want? He is a mistake from your past life, and you want to erase those mistakes. Killing him is the best course of action…"_

"Jin," a familiar female voice called out in the distance, causing Kazuya to look up in surprise, "where are you, Jin? It's dangerous to wander off in the woods! Jin!"

"Jin," Kazuya repeated as he looked back down at the boy who was also looking in the direction of the voice. "Is that what she named you? That's not the name I would have picked…but I suppose it has a nice ring to it." Putting his hand on Jin's tiny shoulder, Kazuya leaned in and whispered in the boy's ear. "Today, you have your mother Jun Kazama to thank for your life…son."

"_What are you doing, you fool?" _ Devil demanded as Kazuya stood back up and turned around. _"You might never have an opportunity like this again! You can take the Devil Gene back from this whelp before he matures and becomes a threat to us both! Leaving now would be idiocy of the highest order! Turn back, you fool! I am commanding you as your advisor to turn back!"_

"Kazuya!"

Upon hearing his name called, Kazuya slowly turned his head to see the person he had come to Yakushima to meet: Jun Kazama, looking as beautiful as when he last saw her, wearing a white hairband and a shimmering white sun dress along with a pair of sandals. There were a wide mix of emotions within her brown eyes, but there was one emotion that shone throughout all the others: surprise. "Kazuya," Jun whispered as she walked past Jin and to the man that would have killed him had Jun not interfered. "Is that really you?"

"…no," Kazuya lied as he prepared to walk away once again. "You have me confused with someone else."

"No…no, I am sure that I have it right," Jun said as she reached out to put her hand on Kazuya's cheek. "I had thought that you were dead, and would be forced to raise my son alone, but it seems that I was-AGH!" As soon as Jun's hand made contact with Kazuya's face, a loud hissing sound was heard and purple smoke emerged from the point of impact, causing the both of them to back away in surprise. Looking at her hand, and then at Kazuya, Jun noticed the glowing red eye that he sported. "Kazuya…what has happened to you?"

"This is the end result of what happened at the tournament," Kazuya explained as he folded his arms while Jun looked at him, fascinated and perplexed by the man standing before her. "After Heihachi tossed me into a volcano, my body was retrieved by a group of scientists working for a company called 'G-Corporation,' and they resurrected me. In the process, they further spliced the dark powers within me so that they became a more obvious part of my being…so now, I am a Devil inside and out. Since you possess Kazama blood, you are as poisonous to me as you were to Devil."

"Why didn't you come here sooner?" Jun asked as she once again walked towards Kazuya, though being much more careful now that she realized that she could do Kazuya great harm. "Since the tournament ended, I thought that you were dead, and that I was going to be a single parent for the rest of my days. Now that you are alive, we can raise our son together, just like we were supposed to!"

"…Mishimas make poor sons," Kazuya answered truthfully as he looked down to see little Jin getting closer to his mother. "My grandfather was overthrown by Heihachi, and I overthrew him. Despite your best intentions, one day Jin will come looking for my blood…and the same will happen when he bears a son. It is the destiny of the Mishimas to fight and betray one another: when Heihachi threw me into the volcano, I realized that nothing any of us can do will change that."

"Is that the only reason why?" Jun lowered her head and clenched her fists, not really accepting Kazuya's words. "You were never one to submit to destiny, Kazuya. One of the reasons I found you so attractive was that you would never allow yourself to be someone else's lapdog. What is the real reason you didn't come to see me, Kazuya…tell me!"

"Because I felt betrayed by you," Kazuya hissed, causing Jun to look back up with a shocked expression in her eyes. "During the tournament, you knew that Heihachi was alive and well, and yet you didn't tell me when you had many chances to do so. If you did tell me, then it's possible that I could have defeated him. Even when we shared a bed, you kept your secrets from me like I was the enemy…and I was foolish enough to think that you were my ally." The Cold-Blooded Prince scoffed as he remembered what happened. "TCH! What a fool I was back then…"

"…you're right," Jun admitted dejectedly. "I purposely withheld the truth from you because I felt that if you knew that Heihachi was alive before Devil was extracted, you would bury yourself deeper into your hatred. Your father did not seem like the fiend that you described him to be…so I didn't want harm to befall either of you." Looking up into the trees that blocked the sun, the young mother smiled grimly. "Instead, I just made things worse: if I had told you, things might have been different. There hasn't been a day that goes by that I don't think about what might have happened if I wasn't so secretive."

"I was always among the damned, Jun," Kazuya replied as a smirk formed upon his face. "I didn't always think so, and for a very brief moment I thought that perhaps it was not too late to turn back from the path of the Devil." Lifting his shirt to reveal the scar he bore since childhood, along with several new scars and burns from the volcano, the Cold-Blooded Prince took note of Jun's sad expression. "After I died and was resurrected, however, I immediately understood that there is only darkness awaiting me…the most I can do is accept that, and perhaps even embrace it."

"Then why did you come here?" Jun asked, echoing the sentiments of the voice within Kazuya's head.

"I came here to say goodbye," Kazuya answered truthfully, his smirk disappearing as he lowered his shirt. "Even now, my new associates treat me like a wild animal: they lift their hand out to stroke my head, but there is much fear in their hearts when they do so. That is how everyone has treated me…except for you. You cared nothing for my wealth and power, and not even the knowledge that I was the Devil incarnate scared you away. The least I can do is properly say goodbye to you…and the possibility of what could have been if not for the fact that I am of the Mishima bloodline."

"And what of our son?" Jun asked as she knelt down and picked up little Jin so that she was in his arms. "Are you going to abandon him, just like you are about to abandon me? You have every right to be upset with me, and for the things that I did to you, but at least mind your son."

"…the voices in my head told me to kill him moments ago," Kazuya explained after a pause. "If I did not hear your voice, I probably would have done so because it would mean obtaining power to defeat Heihachi. Actually, the voice also told me to kill you outright, so that my weakness could be gone forever…and even now, I am still considering it. If you invite me into your home, you will invite your end, as well. However…"

Walking towards his family, Kazuya immediately noticed how Jun did not flinch even after all that he had told her. In fact, her poise seemed even more firm than it was during the tournament: something that Kazuya did not think possible. _Truly a woman of many mysteries, _he mused as he stepped in front of his family, lifted his hand, and placed it on Jin's head. "…however, if I kill Jin now, then I will be no better than my father when he tossed me from a cliff," Kazuya continued. "Sooner or later, my ambitions will run rampant and I will turn on my son just as Heihachi turned on me. Before that happens, I will at least give Jin a chance to grow into a man. I will have no trouble fighting men, but even I balk at the thought of killing a little boy. Therefore, I ask that you do not tell him who I am: unlike me, he has a mother to look after him, and there is no need for him to foster a hatred of me so early…because he'll do that just fine by himself when the time comes for us to come face-to-face and fist-to-fist."

"…if that is what you want, Kazuya, then I will not stop you," Jun whispered as Kazuya gave Jin's hair a quick ruffle before removing his hand. "I will train our son so that he will be ready when the time comes…but he will not be the one to kill you. As long as I still breathe, I will make sure that the cycle of hatred that exist among Mishimas ends with Jin…and perhaps someday, I will once again try to save you from damnation. It is a fool's errand, but it is also my cross to bear."

Just as Kazuya was about to turn around and walk away, Jun reached out with her free hand and touched Kazuya's cheek. As before, purple steam hissed from the point of impact, causing the Cold-Blooded Prince to wince, but he did not recoil and instead looked into Jun's eyes: the brown orbs that mystified him like the rarest jewels. When Jun leaned in and gave him a soft kiss on the lips, he felt two very distinct sensations. On one hand, there was the sting of the holy power of the Kazamas boring into him, and on the other hand, there was a pleasant, warm sensation akin to being in a soothing bath.

Once Jun retracted her kiss, Kazuya looked one more time at the family he might have had if not for his ambitions, scoffed once, and said "goodbye" in a very curt manner before turning around and walking away. _I won't kill today, Jun, _he thought as he ignored Devil's ramblings, _but you had better train that boy even more aggressive than Heihachi trained me…because when the time comes for my son and I to meet again, there will be blood, and you won't be able to do anything but watch._

"Mommy, who was that?" Jin finally said to his mother as Kazuya faded from view. "His eye was pretty…"

"He's…an old friend," Jun said with a warm smile before turning around and heading home. "Maybe if we're lucky, he'll come and visit us again. Now come on, Jin: that wooden person that I showed you in the magazine is coming in the mail today. Together, he and I will teach you some fun martial arts exercises!"

--------------

_**Author's Note**__: It's weird for me to be writing Tekken stories again after burying myself completely in my original fiction, but I felt like I had a quick story left in me to tell. I've wanted to do a T2 story for a very long time now, but I continuously put off doing it due to other ideas taking precedence (Tekkenshu Sentai Shinkenger, Sheol, Soul Breakers, etc.). When I felt the urge to write again with my one-shot Kurenai, things came rushing back to me and I took it upon myself to write this story. Sometimes it is funny, sometimes it is serious, sometimes it is fluffy, and sometimes it is dark...but more importantly, it's me. This is how I write, and this is what I think happened in Tekken 2 now that the Scenario Campaign intro has left everything up for grabs._

_First and foremost I would like to thank __**SHADi**__ for listening to my ideas and helping me plan them out. Seeing the Tekken 2 manga also really helped things: I look forward to this week's entry!_

_Also needing to be thanked is __**SephirothBeatrix**__ for, as always, being creative and supportive in my endeavors. The fact that a Dubliner is the WWE Champion just goes to show how much of a stand-up people you guys are._

_And __**you, the reader**__, for reading this story. Until next time, true believers!_


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